Witchblade
by Avelona-and-Sally
Summary: Sarah's experience in the Labyrinth led to a magical career choice. After a particularly tough assignment, she is the reluctant owner of an artifact that's been turning women into one-man armies for centuries. Her newfound power is getting her all kinds of attention - not all of it well-meaning. Good thing the Goblin King's hell-bent on protecting her. Not a crossover. Sarah/Jareth
1. Chapter 1

Sarah twitched, hand curling around her painfully hot cup of coal-black coffee, and glared at the answering machine with thin lips. Off to the side, Isaac, who had been clumsily flipping an omelet over in the pan (no-one in the three-bedroom condo was fond of the just-let-it-sit-for-a-while-and-eventually-it'll-cook-all-the-way-through method) and likely getting a large amount of egg all over the stove, whistled slightly.

She gulped the caffeinated liquid, hissing when her mouth was burned, and put her head in her hands with a miserable sigh. She did not deserve this. She'd just returned from a three-month-but-actually-two-week-in-Earth-time mission in the fucking _coldest_ realm she'd ever been to. And much of that time had been spent curled up in a snow-blocked cave yearning for food other than the protein powder in her backpack that she was fairly sure you were supposed to mix into water (which she _couldn't_ do because her water had frozen _solid_ and she'd had to _lick_ it to get any) and the two ketchup packets she'd found in her coat pocket. It had resulted in her looking like an anorexic and nearly failing because the little girl she was supposed to find was too heavy for her to pick up by the time she'd gotten to her, which was what the transportation spell her employer had decided on required.

Lucky for her, her roommates were fairly understanding and put up with her two-day pity fest of taking hour-long baths and using magic unnecessarily to keep the water heated, eating greasy Chinese food and refusing to lift a finger to help with the apartment's chores. She wanted a piping hot, overly-sweet mug of extremely _black_ coffee and a very _large_ breakfast with lots of eggs and toast. And preferably another day of lying around before she got back to acting like someone who _didn't_ have cancer.

Unfortunately, her family had chosen to call, with the news that Toby had captured a small, humanoid creature that said it was a goblin and decided that her suspicious attitude towards all of that 'fairytale' stuff meant she knew what the heck was going on and that they wanted an explanation and they wanted it _now._ And, Toby had added, the creature was singing whenever they didn't keep it entertained for more than two minutes, so she had _really_ better come home now.

"_Mother_ of _God,"_ Sarah groaned.

Isaac set a large fourth of omelet in front of her with a sympathetic expression, plate complete with hash browns, toast, and one roasted tomato, halved. Without waiting for her tongue to recover, Sarah grabbed a fork and attacked the food viciously, gulping more eye-watering coffee as she went.

"I forgot you still haven't told your folks," said her only male roommate, sipping on his own mug of a less extreme, hazelnut version of her beverage and leaning against the counter.

While she was by no means new to the whole thing and not at all the youngest (nineteen-year-old Angie reserved that title and was often indignant at being treated as such), she was the latest addition to their 'team' and therefore given all the empathetic doting any youngest sibling would have. Isaac and Tasha had both told their parents (and Tasha's little sister) a _long_ time ago and were in the habit of giving them detailed descriptions of their lives through phone, mail and the occasional visit. Angie had run away from home when she was little on a whim, and somehow wound up in a whole 'nother world, complete with unicorns. She could barely remember her old parents and as such didn't really see the point in contacting them.

Sarah was a different matter entirely. What she did for a living was dangerous (as her currently drastically undernourished physique proved). It wasn't so much the anxiety about them worrying about her she was afraid of, it was that magic had a way of finding the people who believed in it. She had wanted her family to go on thinking that the most harmful thing in the world was nuclear weaponry (actually, it probably was – she had yet to see a magical thing stand up to anything wore modern than a grenade fashioned out of a wine bottle, some string and gunpowder, though they'd never actually _used_ anything more modern than that in fighting a magical being) because they weren't likely to attract nuclear weapons to them just by thinking about them.

But then there was Toby. Bright, curious Toby who sometimes saw things that weren't there and constantly interrogated his sister for answers that she was _far_ too unwilling to give. It seemed he'd had enough, and wanted everything out in the open. That was probably the best explanation for why there was a goblin in Merlin's old kennel now.

She looked at Isaac, who was still regarding her patiently and eating bits of omelet straight out of the pan (iron, in case of emergencies). "Any suggestions?" she asked miserably.

"Come bearing gifts," he grinned, "How much did you get from your last job?"

"Ten grand," she replied, "Little girls' dad either _really_ wanted her back or _really_ didn't want to go and get her."

He shrugged, "Might get you a couple of trinkets on the market if you find a good trader."

"Nah," she said, "I've got some things I can give them. And I'll need the money for the plane ride; I am not _driving_ back there."

Isaac finished his coffee and put the mug in the sink. If Sarah remembered correctly, it was Angie's turn to do the dishes. She huffed and pushed the now-empty plate away from her, then got up and stretched, giving her male friend a teasing look as she did. She preferred wearing as little clothing as possible when home, which meant she (and the other two girls) were constantly teasing the boy for staring at her legs when she donned nothing but underwear and a tank top. He wasn't staring, though, which made Sarah look down at her Holocaust-survivor body with real annoyance – to her knowledge, Isaac hadn't had sex in_ two years;_ if she wasn't getting _him_ nervous, then she _really _looked bad.

"Time to get packing," she said with exasperation. And she just got done _un_packing, too! She trudged back to her room, narrowly missing a surprisingly makeup-less Angie clad in only a towel on her way out. A quick glance told that Isaac was, indeed, checking the teen out, so he hadn't decided that he was interested in men while she was gone. Goddamn it.

[-M-]

"Sarah?" Karen opened the door. "Did you get our call? My _God,_ you're so _thin!"_

Sarah gave an apologetic smile, "Can I come in?"

Her stepmother moved aside, and Sarah entered the foyer, stomping snow off of her boots and feeling a great deal better now that she was inside. Karen stood off to the side as Sarah looked around for that moment that is needed when one enters a childhood home. The group picture of the four of them that had been taken by a professional had been replaced by one of her and Toby in formalwear for a wedding. A step-cousin, Sarah remembered, and the buffalo wings from the buffet at the reception were _lethal._ She wasn't wearing a coat, but took her time taking off her boots and placing them in the mud closet, then wiping where she'd stood with a rag she'd found inside.

Finished, Sarah looked at her father's wife, who was wringing her hands nervously. "I think I have some explaining to do."

It seemed, at that moment, latent maternal instincts took over and Karen firmly grasped her stepdaughter's wrists and marched her over to the kitchen, "Not without a decent meal, you won't – you're as thin as a rake! Have you been eating?"

Sarah managed a nod and closed her eyes as her mouth watered when Karen pulled out the remains of tonight's dinner. A steak and some russet potatoes were put on a plate and microwaved for her; Sarah wondered why Karen hadn't been named a saint yet. Taking the possessed stare at the microwave as encouragement, Karen called to her father and Toby, then went upstairs to retrieve the latter, muttering about kids and their iPods. Richard Williams gave his daughter a tight hug, exclaiming at the feel of her bones, then sat down, just as Karen put the food in front of Sarah and began heating milk for hot cocoa and Toby bounded in, looking furious.

"You told me they weren't real!" he said, refusing to sit down, choosing to stand in front of her in as aloof a manner as possible.

Sarah flinched, "I have a very good reason. But first, I have to ask you, how did you know I was involved in all of this? Actually, no – " she amended, when it looked like Karen was going to answer, " – first thing I have to ask you is where the goblin is."

"In the basement, where we said he was. He's playing with our old toys," Toby said.

Sarah nodded, "Good. Goblins aren't generally harmful, but if you make them angry, there's nothing to stop them from ruining your life." Then she turned her attention back to her food and ate for a few awkward minutes. Toby finally sat down after a stern look from his mother. Karen and her father kept meeting each other's eyes nervously.

Her father cleared his throat, "When Toby was little, he talked about – about goblins."

Sarah 'Hmm'-ed in confirmation and smiled faintly at her little brother, "He talked about a lot of stuff besides goblins. Once," she said, looking at her brother, "You were bitten by a fairy. I told Karen it was a lizard." Karen gave her a scandalized look at the knowledge that Sarah had actually lied about what had bitten her son at one point in his life. Sarah sighed, "The beginning's the best place to start, I guess. But please, _please_ remember that I was fifteen. And that I didn't mean it." Everyone looked very glum at that – those were not the words nice bedtime stories started with.

And so, the entire tale came spinning out – the goblins, Hoggle, the Labyrinth, the Wise Man, Ludo, the Fireys, the Bog of Eternal Stench, Sir Didymus, the battle and, of course, the man who had proceeded to make ten hours of Sarah's life a living hell, the Goblin King. Her parents sat in stunned silence throughout the whole thing, though Toby risked asking questions now and again, to Sarah's great relief. What did the Goblin King look like? How could the Fireys be solid if they were flame? What did the Bog of Eternal Stench smell like? And then came the easy part:

"Afterwards, I knew I couldn't just sit back and let life happen. There was this whole world and all of a sudden, I could _see_ it and I _had_ to be a part of it. I figured I'd finish high school and then go looking for it. And I found it." Sarah said with a small smile. "You guys have met my roommates; we work as a squad to do any job worth doing. We're all pretty experienced – I went through half a year of practice before they let me come with them anywhere. Now, I can handle small assignments on my own." There was a long, _long_ quiet. "And that's it."

Her father exhaled, "And that would be why you don't answer our calls half the time. You're off – in other worlds."

Sarah nodded.

"Is that why you're so thin?" Karen pressed, "How much do you make doing this job?"

Sarah pursed her lips, willing herself to be patient, "I make a _lot._ Humans in general don't have a lot of power; it's really easy for us to slip between realms without being noticed. Unfortunately, telling the entire planet about this would cause a lot of panic, so there aren't that many humans doing these jobs. We're valuable and it _shows_ when people pay us."

Karen looked over her figure, "Then why - ?"

"My last assignment put me in friggin' Antarctica. Well, not _really,_ 'cause it wasn't on _Earth,_ and I got snowed into a cave for a couple of months. Not much to eat."

Richard looked shocked, _"Months?_ The last time we spoke to you was two weeks ago!"

Sarah nodded, a melancholy expression taking up her face, "Yeah," she said thickly, "I always call before I leave Earth. I mean, we're warned about how time will pass where we're going, in case we end up being gone for years, but I just want to remind you guys I exist. Just in case."

"Oh, honey," Karen said, coming around the table to envelope Sarah in a warm hug. It wasn't particularly comfortable, what with Karen's cleavage pressing into her face and her earring catching on Sarah's hair, but it felt nice. She and her roommates had all had a big dogpile-hug once Sarah had returned, but it was _nice_ to be doing it with the type of person who was supposed to look out for you like a parent instead of a friend. Her father reached over to squeeze Sarah's hand nicely and even Toby abandoned his I'm-too-cool-for-family attitude to give her a hug. A brief one.

"So," said Sarah, blinking a bit to avoid tears – she'd been doing this for seven years, damn it, she could control herself! – "Can I see that goblin?"

[-M-]

The goblin was very willing to comply with her demands. It would not attack anyone in the house. It would not get beaten over the head with an iron frying pan. It would not steal any property, damage any property, or otherwise cause any sort of disturbance. It would not get beaten over the head with an iron frying pan. It would not tell His Majesty, the King of Goblins about having any sort of unusual interaction with the Williams family. It would not get Bogged and then beaten over the head with an iron frying pan. When all was understood, the stumpy little goblin was allowed to leave, with any one toy of the Williams' children it wished. The little bugger was delighted.

Toby was impressed.

Sarah beamed at that, hefting Karen's largest frying pan over her shoulder, and asked nicely if there was any dessert left over from tonight and whether they had any more questions for her. She'd been surprised by their lack of indignation at her career choice – she was _sure_ they'd attempt to get her to quit by threatening to disown her or something – but they seemed very understanding about the whole thing. After about fifty more questions, going from the "Why have you never mentioned the magical world before?" to the "Can you make things _explode_ with your _mind?"_ Karen decided it was time for bed.

But not before Sarah had given out the presents.

"Oh. My God." Toby said when she explained the properties of the ugly little hat she'd given him. "So I'm, like, invisible."

"No," Sarah corrected, "If a person's looking for you, specifically, they _will_ find you. And if they say your name out loud, you will appear." Karen looked _very_ relieved. "It'll just help people not notice you. And it's to _borrow,_ not keep. It's not that rare, but it's expensive as hell and I might need it for a job or something."

She couldn't think of a good thing to give Karen or her father and decided to give them a joint gift that she'd near-wrestled from a tight wad at the market that (Isaac was very smug to hear) she'd ended up going to, despite her attempts to dodge unnecessary physical activity: a little door knocker, pretty much a less-talkative duplicate of the enormous ones she'd met in the Labyrinth, that would open the door on command for any of the persons who lived in the house. No more worries about lost keys. They smiled and thanked her, then asked if there was anyway to contact her when she was out of the realm.

Sarah brightened and nodded eagerly, "Find a mirror or some water that will give you a decent reflection, then say something to the extent of 'Sarah, I need you,' and I'll appear. In the water." Then she paused, "If I don't appear, then don't worry. I'm probably just busy – like a phone call." She considered for another few seconds, "Or on Earth; magic seems to think it's a waste of time to work on the same level of existence. Unless, of course, you're an all-powerful wizard or something. They're pretty good at doing whatever they want."

"Alright," said Karen, standing up and unfolding her hands from their seemingly-relaxed position atop her legs, "Bed."

Toby looked ready to whine, but reconsidered (though whether it was because of Sarah's story and constant emphasis on how whiny _she'd_ been then and where it had gotten her or because he was eleven and Too Mature to Whine, it was unclear). He began trekking up the stairs with a few mutters that sounded suspiciously like "Sure, my sister travels between worlds and I have a _bedtime."_

Sarah gave a chuckle to stay in character, though the weariness in her limbs was telling her needed to get to sleep. God, she _hated_ being this thin! You were tired and cold _all the time._ She took a swig from the mug of chamomile that Karen had given her, then eyed it suspiciously. Wasn't chamomile supposed to help you sleep? That's what was doing it. _'Or,'_ she thought when she saw the clock on the mantle, _'It's twelve AM and I didn't sleep at all on the plane ride over here.'_ Ooh, and she'd have to call Terry and tell him she wasn't in Oregon anymore and that she'd ended up in New York. He was going to be pissed; Isaac said something about a meeting with their next client before the annual Yule celebration which – Sarah frowned – would be in NYC.

She groaned. At least she was closer now. She could probably take a bus there if she stayed – it was in a month but she didn't think her father and Karen would be so quick to kick her out after tonight's revelation – the problem was the meeting. She didn't like missing them. It wasn't just rude; she pretty much instantly degraded herself to 'that girl who came along because she's part of the package' by not knowing all the dirty details the others had been privy to. As the one constantly babied by her teammates, she _really_ didn't like being that girl. It made her feel like the weak link.

"Something wrong?" her father asked. She looked up, noticing that he'd been staring at her worriedly the _entire_ time. Well, no _duh._ After tonight, he probably thought she'd grow horns if it was a full moon.

She sighed, "Not really. Just figured out me being here means missing a meeting with a client – oh! Er, would you mind if I stayed with you guys for about a month?" She blushed at being caught assuming they'd accommodate her.

He gave her a look, "We'd let you stay here whenever. Even _if_ we didn't have cause to worry for your life."

Again, she blushed, "I'm sorry I wished Toby away. And that I didn't tell you about all this. After being in such close proximity with the goblin for so long, you'll probably start seeing other things, too. I'll ask Tasha to send me some books with all the basics in them."

Richard nodded, "That would help." They both looked as Karen came in, then settled into their seats more firmly as the woman sat down and continued to drink her own tea, "We want you to know that you're really special to us, honey. And we can't tell you _not_ to go off and have your adventures because it seems like you really love it, anyway. But please be careful."

Sarah smiled, "I'm always careful." She looked down; her sweater hung off her bony shoulders unconvincingly, "Um. This isn't a common occurrence."

Karen sighed, "Well, you're free to come here whenever you need food. Or a place to sleep. Or clothing – I'm taking you shopping tomorrow."

Sarah made a face to emphasize her dislike of trying on clothes (yes, she liked dresses, they made her feel like a princess, but _what_ was the fun in trying on _jeans_ and _shirts?)_, "Thanks. I got Dad's permission to stay here for about a month. There's going to be a ball in the city for Yule – that's December twenty-first this year – and as a full-fledged member of the magical community, they want me there." And she wanted to be there, too. Dresses, dancing and food. Plus some of the strangest-looking people _ever._

Karen gave a small smile, "That sounds wonderful." She looked at the clock, "But it's late and I am still your stepmother. Off to bed."

Sarah grinned, "Yes, ma'am." She deposited her mug in the kitchen sink, then went upstairs, eagerly anticipating a _hot_ shower and the comfort of her twin-sized mattress.

…

…

A/N: Because I really, really don't know what's good for me and wanted to get this out there before I lost my nerve. This might be the only chapter for a while, but there's _definitely_ more coming.

Questions? Comments? Review and I will answer.


	2. Chapter 2

Sarah woke up to the somehow nostalgic sensation of a goblin poking her in the face. She blamed Angie; the nineteen-year-old refused to do something as normal as shaking her by the shoulder to rouse her. She preferred sleeping with Isaac, or, if possible, Tasha, but the two were close and had been living in each other's presence for far longer than in either Sarah's or Angie's, so they had immediately shacked up in the bedroom farther down the hall (which Sarah guessed was only fair; at the time, they'd been paying most of the rent and Angie would've gotten her own room, though Sarah _still_ would've liked to have had a say in it) and Sarah had ended up sharing her room with a girl who liked to leave her unmentionables lying around.

She opened her eyes to look blearily at the same goblin who she'd released last night. "What is it?"

He blinked eyes the color of goldfish back at her. "Meep came for breakfast," the cretin grinned, "Yummy eggs. Yummy bacon. His Highness said I could."

Sarah sat up immediately, "You spoke with His Highness? Did you keep your promise?" she stared down at him angrily, doing her best to look intimidating when her hair wasn't brushed and she still had sand in her eyes. Not to mention her sleepwear, which consisted of an oversized T-shirt and panties and probably did nothing to make her shoulders look broader or make her appear threatening in any way.

"His Majesty said you couldn't threaten his subjects, 'cause we had diplomanic immuniny." The goblin responded impishly, then leered, _"Eggs! Bacon!"_

_Diplomatic immunity?_ Sarah stared, bemused, then shook her head and moved to pull on a pair of shorts. While her roommates put up with her need for unrestricting clothing, she doubted that Karen would be so obliging. The woman had nary a hair out of place, even when she was _gardening,_ and to see her stepdaughter prancing around in what someone could assume was _only _a man's shirt would probably give her a heart attack.

They bounced down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Karen was spraying a pan in preparation for what looked to be a traditional Western-style breakfast. Sarah grinned, "You should make extra – we have a guest."

Karen whirled around, looking every bit the hostess who had just heard the Queen of England decided to drop by, then relaxed at the sight of Meep. _"He's_ back?"

"Yup!" the goblin preened, "His Highness said so!"

Karen gave Sarah a questioning look and Sarah sighed, "Probably petty revenge for trapping one of his subjects in a dog cage for five days." She could imagine – "'You want a goblin for a pet? Well, here you go! With all the trimmings! And should he get it into his head to do a bit of mischief, remember, he has _diplomatic immunity,_ so you ought to be nice to him regardless.'" Karen frowned. Sarah continued, "It might be inconvenient, but it could also be a good thing. Goblins are responsible for doing things like hiding socks, spoiling milk and tangling hair. With this guy as our 'guardian', we don't have to worry about that anymore."

"Meep won't mess on the floor like dog. Meep is _housetrained,"_ Meep said solemnly, and Sarah had to bite back a laugh.

Karen still looked unsure, but carried on making breakfast, taking a few more eggs out of the fridge than she'd had out before. "Tell me about the Goblin King. Does he often do things like this?"

"_Very_ often, though not always to me," Sarah said, "We still see each other at parties and stuff; he's polite. I think he's just relieved that I don't have crazy-hostile reactions to him whenever he's in the room. Most of what he did was for my own good, anyway, and I'd rather not make him my enemy. He has _armies_ of these guys," she said, flicking a finger at Meep, "And they're not all this cute."

"_One_ army," corrected Meep, _"Bi-i-ig_ army." He squealed in delight when Sarah handed him a cookie.

Karen looked at her disapprovingly and took it away, "You can have sweets once you've finished your breakfast," she told him, "Not before." Sarah waited for Karen to turn and then winked at the little goblin, who showed his approval quietly this time and ate the cookie she passed him under the table quickly. "Is there anything else we should know?"

Sarah considered. She'd explained the basics last night, listing the creatures they'd likely see and the proper defenses against them should they need it. She'd brought along some inconspicuous iron jewelry for everyone, little things that it would be easy not to notice; a small chain, a bracelet and a ring, which they could divide amongst themselves as they wanted. Karen was wearing the bracelet now, Sarah saw, which was good practice. She knew Toby wasn't fond of jewelry and that it would take time for him to get used to wearing the chain, which was likely the only thing that would fit him. Apart from that, the only things worth mentioning were really how to recognize a magical being out in the open, which she didn't really think was necessary, since exposure to the goblin would eventually give them the ability to tell them apart automatically.

"Not really. If you have any questions, call me or my roommates." She glanced down, "Or ask Meep."

Karen gave the orange-eyed creature a dubious glance, then began cracking the eggs. The goblin licked his lips and bounced a bit in preparation for food. Toby then entered from behind her, and Sarah was satisfied to see he was wearing the chain around his neck.

"What's he doing here?" Toby asked, frowning at Meep who stuck his tongue out petulantly. Toby immediately raised his hands in surrender, "Didn't mean to insult you, man. I just wanna know why."

"Meep not _man,_ Meep _goblin,"_ the creature corrected with a suspicious glance at Toby, "Meep came for food."

Toby then looked at Sarah, who rolled her eyes, "You now have a permanent goblin resident. Be nice to him and he'll be nice to you."

Toby shrugged, then snatched an apple from the basket of fruit on the counter, tossing one to Meep when it looked like he was about to ask.

"Okay, Meep," Sarah leaned across the table at the goblin, "Here are the rules: you make a mess, you clean it up. You break something, you call for one of us or move it out of the way until we can fix it. And you _may not_ invite goblin friends here without our permission." She looked him squarely in the eye, putting as much Karen into her stare as possible, "If you break the rules, you won't get any treats, and we'll put you in the kennel for time out."

The goblin frowned and seemed to think about it, chewing and swallowing the core of the apple before nodding his agreement.

"And," added Karen, "You must stay invisible if house guests come over." Looking relieved when he nodded again, she put a plate of eggs in front of him. There wasn't any bacon today, but she'd heated some slices of ham and put them on the plate for him, smiling slightly (if a bit wearily) when he dug in with gusto. Sarah thanked her when she put another two plates on the table for her and Toby, waiting for Karen to sit down before beginning to eat. "What's on the agenda for today?" Karen asked her, "Besides shopping – we're going to get you some clothes that fit."

Sarah pursed her lips, "I need to call Terry – he's the guy who sets us up with other people for assignments and stuff. And I want either you or Dad to meet him; he might have some tips or something for you guys. Plus, he's gonna wanna put you guys in contact with some other magic folk, or parents of people like me, just so you have someone to contact in case something unusual happens."

"Like what?" Karen asked, looking worried.

"Toby's still young enough that he might manifest magic – _and_ he was exposed to it when he was _one._ It's likely he might fly by accident or something. Plus, Terry'll probably be looking to you guys for business, too. Vacations and stuff, like if you guys want to travel to the Underground or some other place for spring break."

Toby looked excited, especially when the opportunity for his having magic was brought up. Karen, on the other hand, gave a long sigh.

Sarah gave her a pitying look, "I know it's a lot to take in. And that it's scary. But once you get over that, it's _really_ cool."

Karen gave a small smile, "Then I can't wait to get over it."

[-M-]

Once they had dropped Toby off at school, Karen, with Sarah in tow, had driven to the local outlet mall in search of some clothes that didn't hang off of her and make her look like a skeleton. The blonde housewife had loaded Sarah's arms with three pairs of pants and five shirts, along with one thick sweater, then pushed her into the changing room. Halfway through this, Sarah started as her reflection rippled, and she was left staring at an exasperated Tasha.

Sarah smirked, "Do these jeans make me look fat?"

"Nothing could make you look fat – you look like a bulimic, for God's sake," the woman said irritably, "I called to tell you that Isaac told Terry why you're with parents and that he's really looking forward to meeting them."

"Well that's nice of you." Sarah said cheerily. Short messages like this weren't all-that uncommon amid the four of them. They didn't require a lot of energy like the strong offensive, defensive and everything-in-between spells they used frequently, or even the miniscule amounts things like heating water and moving objects did. The issue was finding the person you were contacting at an opportune time; they'd automatically reject the call if they weren't comfortable with having it right then. That, and a place where no-one who would think you were crazy for talking to your reflection like it was someone else was around.

Tasha's face softened, "How'd they take it?"

"Pretty good. I mean, they'd been living with a goblin for about a week, so there were no screams of disbelief, but for three people who learned that I wished one of them away to the Goblin King and then proceeded to keep involving myself in this stuff afterwards, they took it pretty well. My stepmom's taking me shopping for clothes right now."

"Good," said Tasha with an approving nod, "Maybe clothes that fit will make you look fuller."

"Oh, shut up. Did you hear anything about the assignment yet?"

The older woman nodded eagerly, "We're retrieving an artifact, a bracelet, I think, and taking it back to a guy from one of the Fey courts. The payment?" she leaned in conspiratorially, _"Forty. Million. Dollars."_

"_Woah."_ Sarah said. That kind of money could get her so many back-and-forth flights between New York and Oregon, she'd probably never miss another holiday because she couldn't afford it _ever again._ Hell, she probably wouldn't miss another Sunday brunch! But there was a difference between not being able to afford everything she wanted and being desperate; people didn't pay that much money to get just _anything._ Even the little girl she'd recovered just four days ago hadn't been worth more than ten thousand dollars. "What kind of bracelet is this?"

"He didn't say yet. It's all supposed to be discussed at the meeting. Which," Tasha looked at her disdainfully, "I'm betting you won't make."

"Probably not. I'm gonna stay here and help them adjust." Sarah shrugged, and began pulling her jeans off, "I'm gonna need my mirror back soon. Anything else?"

"Cute undies."

"Thanks." Sarah said, grinning widely at her, "If we're going to discuss my intimate apparel, then may I say that is a stunning _stain_ on your bra strap. Since that's your 'between laundry cycles' bra – and don't lie, I know it is – then you ought to be made aware of the pile of clothes at the bottom of my hamper."

"Damn opportunist." Tasha stuck out her tongue, her image slowly fading from the mirror, leaving Sarah with the reflection of herself in Batman underwear.

[-M-]

"Terry, I need you!" Sarah called, waiting for a moment before relaxing at the image of their, for lack of a better word, agent.

Terry looked every bit the efficient, young businessman. He had spiky hair, one or two piercings to remind him of old girlfriends, was usually wearing some form of streamlined suit, and was always with the earpiece he'd had spelled to substitute for phone calls and/or magical means of contact, though this time he was, miraculously, without it. He grinned jovially at her, _"Sarah!_ I heard the Williamses were made aware of your situation?"

She smiled, "Yeah," and turned to her family, "If you guys can squeeze in, I'll introduce you."

They were standing in the hall, in front of one of the largest mirrors in the house. There was speculation on whether or not they ought to use the ones in the bathrooms, which were larger, but in the end the hall won out, as it was a bit too much for four people to be in one room, and Sarah would've preferred not to call her boss from a bathroom, anyway. They all moved in a bit closer and Sarah introduced each, taking care to mention Toby's circumstances.

"Hm. Where did you say you all lived, again? Not near the city, are you?"

"A _really_ long bus ride away."

"Hm. Pity. There are, I think, twenty magic tutors available in New York, but in the _state_, I think there are about twelve. None of them in your area – oh! Wait." His eyes fell on something beyond the mirror and he reached over to grab it. He came up with what looked like a newspaper; Sarah recognized it as a rag they got back in Oregon that often gave information concerning the magic world, concealed by crafty wording. "There might be someone _here_ who's willing to do some state-hopping. We'll have to test your brother, of course, but there's no reason to say they'd be unwilling. A human with the latent power _he_ will have might even bring people out of the city, come to think of it."

Sarah smiled, "I'll get right on that, then."

"Don't bother; I'll be there tomorrow evening." Terry said, then gawked at her expression, "Sarah, you can't be thinking to exclude them from Yuletide? They'll need to mingle with everyone as soon as possible, and this would be the perfect time to do it. Hundreds of guests, both important and not, it's a completely safe environment, easy to get things explained to them all at once. We could put them in contact with persons from all over who can answer questions of theirs, and you could introduce them to friends of yours. Tasha and Isaac's parents will be there, I'll be there, _you'll_ be there… You can't say that's not enough protection."

Karen seemed to give her a questioning look and Sarah winced, "I mean, all at once…it's a lot to take, you know? And there'll be people with three heads there, and with eyes all over their body, fins for ears, deer feet…" she listed, thinking back to Karen's overwhelmed countenance that morning. "Plus, we can't watch them _all_ the time."

"Give them each a goblin to watch over them, then," Terry continued with nary a care, "And don't exaggerate – there are enough wards all over the building that everyone could take it upon themselves to execute each other with chainsaws and it wouldn't do any good. The goblins never come because none of their pranks work in there."

Sarah huffed, "I can't just _give them_ goblins, I don't have that authority. Today one went off on me about how I couldn't beat it with an iron skillet because it had _diplomatic immunity."_

Terry guffawed, shoulders shaking as he took that in. He straightened up a few moments later, wiping tears from his eyes, "Alright, I'll take it up with His Majesty. He might be willing to spare two or three in the interest of keeping a few humans safe for the evening. Not that you'd _need_ them," he added exasperatedly.

"We still haven't cleared it with Dad and Karen yet," Sarah said desperately, "If they don't want to go, they _won't."_

Terry gave her that and looked at each with a raised eyebrow, expression giving away nothing, but the expectation there all-the-same.

Karen and Richard Williams met eyes, looking indecisive. "When is this, exactly?"

Terry beamed, and Sarah's shoulders slumped dramatically. They may as well have raised a flag of surrender.

…

…

A/N: First mentions of Jareth as a person! Woot! I'm choosing to go the less angsty route this time around, and giving everyone the opportunity to start off as friendly acquaintances. We'll just move on from there.

Review, please!


	3. Chapter 3

The month passed quickly, every day consisting of some exercise, cleaning and communication with friends from other realms-of-being for Sarah.

She was peeved to discover that, while her body was quick to return to its former state, it didn't seem to want to stop just there. The strip of fat beneath her navel that had _never_ been there before was an incredible annoyance. As was the increased size of her thighs. And how large her breasts seemed now. Sarah considered dieting and ran this by Karen who immediately flew into a rage about how she'd just recovered from looking like she survived the Holocaust and a little fat on her was absolutely _nothing_ to worry about, didn't she know, and how she had better not _dare_ attempt anything so foolish as restricting her portions. When Karen got serious, she got _scary._ Thus, Sarah simply upped her exercise regime, relieved to find that her figure was (slowly) returning to its former girlishness.

This, however, was not the biggest Concern of the Month for the twenty-five-year-old. Her most prevalent worry during that time could be summed up in one proper noun: Toby.

When Terry came over to give Toby his test, everyone, including her brother's parents, assumed Toby would immediately take to the magic like a fish to water. Toby himself was excited at the prospect of learning how to use magic and didn't allow anyone to think that he, for even one moment, was worried that he might not have any. Sarah didn't know if he'd even considered it. _She_ hadn't. But that was what happened. Everyone had stood for five minutes, waiting for something to happen to the crystal Toby was holding, first interested, then concerned, then very upset at the look of disbelief on the blonde boy's face.

Terry had shrugged, said something along the lines of, "Happens to the best of us," and proceeded to take care not to mention anything of the ability-sort for the duration of his stay, preferring to speak to Karen and Sarah's father about the ball, drawing up ideas for formalwear, and producing an image of the various styles of clothing the guests would be wearing, assuring them that nothing they wore would be considered outlandish and that, so long as Karen's dress was floor-length, anything would go. Everyone else walked on eggshells around the preteen, Meep included (though the goblin did his best to cheer the boy up in his own way – burping loudly, mainly, and cracking jokes that made little-to-no sense), and Toby eventually said plainly that yes, he was disappointed, but he'd get over it so they should stop acting like he had leukemia. This relieved everyone except Sarah, who was sure that he'd end up bitter that she could do magic and he couldn't.

When she said as much, Toby gave her a simple answer, coupled with The Look: "Sarah, I'm not about to wish you away to the goblins because I'm jealous. That's _your_ schtick."

He delighted in sitting there and watching her gape at him for a few minutes, then swearing and running away when she screamed she was going to strangle him. Just like that, they were back to the easy-going attitude they'd enjoyed before Terry's visit, everyone steadily getting used to seeing things they previously thought weren't there and having family Monopoly tournaments with the new challenge of convincing Meep not to eat the money. The time went by quickly and soon they were packing their bags and piling into the small car that really shouldn't have been used for anything more than going to the corner store on a rainy day.

Upon entering New York City, they all decided the best thing to do was to check into the hotel and then sleep for an hour. Afterwards, Karen made Richard and Toby iron their tuxes before hanging them up until it was time to go, and then organized the things she'd need, fussing over Toby's tie and her father's shoes and asking Sarah where _her _dress was in a state that Sarah remarked was one step away from hyperventilation. Sarah's father took that as a cue to usher everybody out of the room and search for a place that made the famed New York cheesecake. Once they found it, they settled down and proceeded to ask Sarah questions about the proper conduct for occasions like the ball. Sarah told them that sticking to a simple curtsy or bow would suffice, and if the person was really picky, they'd correct them on their own. Around eight, they returned to the hotel, full of cheesecake and coffee.

To everyone's shock (save maybe Sarah's), their room was not empty.

Tasha and Angie were waiting, sitting on one of the beds, both already dressed in their gowns and looking at Sarah with identical grins on their faces.

"C'mon, baby," Angie snickered, "Time to get you in your ball gown."

In contrast to Karen's (gold, modern, and simple in the way of dressy-but-not-attention-hoarding), Tasha's (black, slender, leaving little to the imagination without abandoning the dress code in the slightest) and Angie's (fuchsia, clingy, and explicitly letting _everyone_ know that her beauty had nothing to do with maturity at all), Sarah's dress was a Venetian explosion, using enough fabric to clothe an orphanage's worth of children twice, and probably quite modestly, too. Toby snorted when he saw it, saying something to her dad about getting eaten by the skirt, but Sarah paid him no mind. It seemed Angie had once again taken it into her head to mess with Sarah's wardrobe, as the previously long-sleeved, lacy gown had lost not only its sleeves, but its back, too. Angie tied the halter behind Sarah's neck with an annoying "You'll thank me later." There wasn't any time to fix it now, and Sarah wasn't good with magicking fabrics at _all,_ so she didn't attempt to in case she caused it to melt, somehow.

In a demonstration of wisdom, Tasha pulled out three small pins and attached them to the Williamses, showing how Sarah, Angie and she herself each had one as well. "They're a gift from Terry," she said, "It's like a homing device. If you need to find any one of us, you'll feel a kind of pull to where we are. Unfortunately, the ones that work inter-realm are too expensive for us. These probably won't even work inter-country, but a crowded ball is nothing. Everyone else in our group has them, too, so no need to worry."

"Who else is in our group?" Sarah asked as Angie used her compact to call their chauffeur and let him know they were on their way downstairs.

"Isaac, Terry, my parents and Nastya, Mr. and Mrs. Adair…" Tasha listed another few names Sarah didn't recognize, "And…that fox. The one that's your friend," she looked at Sarah for a name.

"Sir Didymus?"

"Yes. He's here with another fox I don't recognize." Tasha said as they climbed in to a limousine, of all things.

Sarah itched at the stares she was receiving for the full skirt of her gown, but did her best to ignore them as she climbed in and found herself next to Isaac, who grinned. "Hey, you," he said cheerily, then extended a hand to Sarah's father and then to Karen, "Mr. and Mrs. Williams. It's a pleasure to meet you again, and to be able to share more of our lifestyle with you."

Richard nodded and Karen smiled, "It's been…interesting, to say the least."

Isaac gave a laugh at that and turned to Toby, "I heard you got a goblin to stay out of your room voluntarily," Toby grinned. "You gotta teach me how to do that."

"I took two different snack-packs and offered him a chip when he was inside and when he was outside. He thinks that being in the room makes the chips spicy." The eleven-year-old's chest puffed-out at the praise and he smirked a bit, "Sarah says it was _mean."_

"It _was_ mean. It was mean to _me._ He ran to me, screaming – I thought he was _dying!_ – and all I could think was 'His Majesty's gonna kill me!'" Sarah shot, doing her best to keep her own giggles down, to the general amusement of everyone in the limo, "It's _not_ funny."

"Sure it isn't," Isaac chuckled.

She turned to him, "And where are your parents, anyway? Shouldn't they be here, with us?"

"They had dinner with Tasha's parents. First they're picking up Nastya, then they're arriving at the place by mirror."

"Where is the ball being held?" asked Karen, turning the blonde male's attention to her.

"The Lee-Higginson Bank Building. It has the biggest rent-able space in the city, but it's still not enough. First, they get rid of all the tables, then every person with the ability works to make the room bigger than it really is. It's not an invite-only party," Isaac explained, "Anyone who has any clue about magic is invited by default, so long as they have something to wear. So the room has to be big enough for everyone who wants to be there _and_ their frequently-imposing attire." He glanced briefly at Sarah's dress and she considered giving him the finger, stopping mid-motion when she remembered her parents were there. "This's where the magic comes in, making the room larger and larger for everyone who arrives."

"Sounds really complicated," Toby said in a bored manner.

Sarah groaned. "Don't even _let_ me think about it. Terry was in on the designing one time – he was assisting one of the people creating optical illusions to help with the planning. I saw one of the files and threw up. It makes you _dizzy_ thinking about that stuff."

"Really a job for higher minds," Angie teased, then stilled when Tasha exclaimed softly.

"We're here!"

At that, the limo slowed, and they all spilled out, joining the fairly long line of people that was squeezing into the building. Sarah's father started saying something about being separated, coloring slightly when Toby pointed out the pin on his lapel. They made their way into the building and slowed slightly once they'd gotten inside to stare.

Sarah had been to the Lee-Higgenson Bank Building for the Yule Ball before, and she _knew_ that this was not what it looked like. Her first year attending this ball, the mural on the far wall had been beautifully enhanced, and spelled so every detail could be seen no matter how far away from it you were (which was useful, since the room hand been somewhere around the length of ten football fields to accommodate the guests that year). This year, however, the mural was gone. As were the pillars on either side of the room and the lights on the ceiling (instead, little floating bubbles – crystals, she noticed when one got close – cast light around the room). Actually, there _was_ no ceiling. Or walls. Instead, there were six floors, all exactly the same as the one they were standing on (the _original,_ which was still lengthened to provide space for the crowd) and on each one people were milling about as if gravity was merely an unfortunate symptom of being outside the ballroom.

Isaac and Tasha came to their senses first and pulled the rest away from the door to let others through.

"They've really outdone themselves this year, haven't they?" Angie said as if she hadn't been ogling the entire thing a few moments before.

"Mhmm," Toby answered dreamily, still staring at everything around them.

Sarah huffed, "Okay, family, all eyes on me."

They complied, regretfully looking away from the spectacle. "Feel free to test Newton's law of universal gravitation, as it looks like this is the only time it will be proven wrong," she said quickly, knowing they'd probably lose focus soon, "Be polite, make sure you _know_ without _any_ doubt what it is you're drinking or eating before you put it in your mouth, socialize, and don't accept gifts from strangers." Taking their nods as a sign that they'd heard her, she gave them each hugs (Toby was still too dazed to protest) and walked off to do some gawking of her own, preferably on one of the 'walls', where she'd have a clear line of sight to the entrance.

[-M-]

It seemed the preferred dance floor was the ceiling, and Sarah imagined that was for the effect it had on the people on the _actual_ floor. The sight of skirts swirling – some even bigger and more flamboyant than hers – was beautiful from a bird's eye view. It was exactly like when she watched a movie and the camera opened with the sight of a dozen dancers twirling on the floor, before zero-ing in on the actual heroes of the story. Looking forward to a dance herself (she and the girls had danced Isaac dead-on-his-feet in practicing for times like these) she walked onwards, across the wall, until she reached the small throng of people that surrounded the dance floor, either resting in between dances they knew, or waiting to be asked.

The oddest thing that had ever happened to her at one of these was when a centaur had asked for a dance and she'd accepted. He ended up being a marvelous dancer, easily maneuvering his four legs around other couples, but it was still odd, and the additional height from his horse legs had required her to crane her neck up at him uncomfortably. She'd worn a less gaudy dress that year, which helped, because four layers of skirts and hooves just didn't mix. This year, she guessed any who asked her to dance would have only two feet and would probably only ask for dances that went with the dress she was wearing.

She was correct, though surprised that many of those who chose to wear tuxedos knew what they were doing when faced with music from the eighteen hundreds. She danced twice with a golden-eyed man in a standard black tux, once with a green-haired teenager, once with Isaac and Terry, respectively, and again with her father when he and Karen made their way off the ground. On the other side of the room, she saw Tasha's sister Nastya teaching Toby how to waltz.

It was during a slow song with lots of use of the French horn that their new employer approached her for a dance. The man was tall, taller than her father, and had shaggy black hair going down past his shoulders. He would've seemed perfectly human had it not been for the slightly unusual hair length and the fact that he wore an earring that dangled down onto the lapel of his white, silk tuxedo. He gave her a respectable distance between them and proceeded to start a conversation over the sound of skirts swishing to and fro on the floor.

"My name is Sigmund," he said with a friendly smile, guiding her into the throng of people where there would be fewer distractions, "I have need of your group to retrieve an artifact that my people have been in want of for a very long time." He spun her just as the music trilled a cue to do something different from the usual footwork, and then they were together as before, his hand back on her waist. Sarah made a mental note to scream at Angie later. The backless state of the gown was annoying; his hand was high enough that he could be safely friend-zoned and yet the skin-on-skin contact was still making everything more sensual than it needed to be.

Though she was loathe to give him any idea that she was interested in anything but the job, she smiled, "It's really cool that you chose us. But the payment for the task is a lot more than we're used to getting. Is there something about this task that is more _difficult_ than we'd be used to?"

He nodded seriously, "You were not at the meeting and I wanted to make sure you were aware of the fact that the task I need of you is a dangerous one."

"How so?" she asked as he twirled her again.

"The artifact that I need returned is the Witchblade. It is a weapon that will bond instantly to a female with magical ability that it sees as compatible. To prevent this happening without our control, we need to make sure that it is not a magical female that takes it. Humans, no matter their capacity for magic, are still humans – and difficult to trace because of it." They spun to avoid a woman that looked like she was liquid fire. "That is why we need a capable squad of you to sneak onto the planet where it is being held, locate the facility, and retrieve the item. When you have done so, you will join hands and shatter a crystal that will take you back here."

Sarah nodded in comprehension, "Why not use a man with magic to retrieve the object?"

"For starters, they would tip off those guarding the Witchblade. And the Witchblade is known to reject men should they attempt to touch it. It is safer to use human women to retrieve it." Sigmund nodded to her as the music stopped, then led her to the nearest side and back off the ceiling onto one of the walls to continue the conversation. "And before you ask, as your young blonde friend did, persons born as men are male, even if they have undergone a sex-change operation."

Sarah held back a snort at Angie's question, then turned to him, "When is this mission supposed to be completed?"

"It does not matter particularly. I would like your team to leave for the planet before winter has ended, but a few more months of waiting is not too worrisome. There are still details to work out, and I don't doubt Terry's eagerness to up the price. Your group has a good reputation and we might be willing to cede another two million or so." He turned away to look around the room, then smiled and gave a wave to a woman in a shimmering taffeta gown. "We will likely see each other again soon before you embark on your journey. It has been a pleasure dancing with you."

Sarah murmured an affirmative, and turned away from him to observe the rest of the room, using her pin to gauge the general location of each family member and locate them among the rest. She pulled away to a slightly less noticeable part of the floor to discreetly remove her shoes under her skirts and wiggle her toes, nearly ooh-ing in appreciation when her sweaty feet touched the cold tile. She huffed in slight irritation when she realized one shoe was being difficult and wobbled as she attempted to slip it on without giving up and reaching down under her dress to right it. It was a real surprise when she tipped sideways, and she inwardly moaned at her now-flawed record of Noticeable Embarrassment-Less parties as she fell.

Into the waiting arms of the Goblin King.

…

…

A/N: Lot's of comments about Meep's diplomatic immunity. You mean you've never heard that one before? Jareth uses it when Sarah attempts to get him evicted in _GND._

Onto the more serious stuff. Before I get any rib-poking, I have to say that while using a witchblade, putting the idea and _Labyrinth_ together and throwing in some J/S romance _is_ the result of me staying up late and daydreaming up a Sarah with a witchblade, the actual idea for _Witchblade_ the anime/comic/whatever is _not_ mine. Nor is this a crossover. I do not _want_ it to be a crossover because then I'd have to do research on the anime/comic/whatever. We're going off whatever my imagination can supply, mmkay? So it's not the _actual Witchblade,_ but it's probably very, very similar because I'm just not _that_ creative.

Review!


	4. Chapter 4

Sarah twisted, trying not to giggle at the way the hands on her waist tickled, and met the amused gaze of her former adversary. She pursed her lips, "You are not allowed to laugh." Obediently, he remained silent, though his lips twitched in a way that she knew he could've hidden better. Carefully, he steadied her and allowed her to hold on to his arm as she wiggled her foot into the shoe. Once she was done, she turned to him with a grin, "Thanks. That would've been embarrassing."

"Don't thank me yet," he replied, smiling indulgently at the few who'd seen what transpired and were giggling to each other at Sarah's expense.

She moaned and he turned to her with a raised eyebrow. "The first ball I bring my family to and it's the one I embarrass myself at."

He shrugged, chuckling a bit. "Come on, then," and offered her an arm, "I've a few things I need to discuss with you and we ought to do so before you're attacked by your stepmother for causing a scene."

Sarah accepted, though she knew it was unlikely that Karen had seen them, and he pulled her away from the crowd of tittering onlookers. She was _immensely_ pleased by his upbeat attitude; it seemed there really were no hard feelings, and the tolerance he was displaying for her overly-casual behavior was encouraging. They traveled back up to the ceiling quickly and soon rejoined the crowd of skirts and tailcoats swirling on the floor, her hand on his arm and his on her waist. Feeling the need to start a conversation, she offered, "How have you been?"

"Fine. I believe the last time we saw each other was at one of Terry's gatherings."

"Yeah," Sarah murmured, stifling a squeal when he placed both hands on her waist and spun her hard enough that both her feet left the ground and she'd no-doubt shown much of her petticoat to those watching. A quick glance around told that many girls were either experiencing the same surprise she was or glancing at their partners accusingly while the men looked around, bemused. "So that was…?"

"A month, give or take a few days. I heard you recently had an assignment in Frigus. How did that go?"

"Not too well. I ended up stranded in a cave for two months. But I got back in the end and made ten thousand bucks, so I'm counting it a success," she shrugged, trying to be as blasé as possible.

The corners of Jareth's mouth tugged downwards. "My goal when I went looking for you was to tell you to be more careful on your next assignment. It will be a particularly difficult one; the Witchblade's guards lack emotion to discern between killing the treasure hunters and kicking them out of the temple."

"You know where it's being held?" she asked, stepping under his arm, then having to press closer to him to accommodate another couple whose spin exceeded the customary two-beat limit. Though it was odd he was taking such an interest, it wasn't so unusual for him to know what was going on. His business with Earth ensured that his realm was easy to get to and from, and that meant he was one of the people Terry had the most contact with, especially since there were goblins all over the blue planet, easy to use for overhearing things and taking things that Terry needed from people, like keys.

He didn't relax the arm on her side and they continued to dance with their chests brushing each other now and then, her obnoxious skirt probably taking up an uncomfortable amount of space between his legs. "A temple in a small forest that sprouted up near an oasis in one of the smaller deserts of Harena."

"Harena," she tested, the word reminding her distantly of 'sahara'. "The realm of the sands?"

Jareth nodded, "Take lots of food and water with you. Sunscreen. Ointment for sunburns and bug bites. Remember kerchiefs or scarves to keep the sand out of your face and a thick jacket to keep you warm during the night."

She grinned, "Sounds like you really thought this through."

"It's important that you survive," he yielded, taking a step back and bowing once the music for the last song ended. Sarah managed a hasty curtsey that, in the end, managed to be too deep. Then they came together again for a new song, moving faster and, as a result, a decent space opened up between the two of them.

"I'll agree to that," she said, "But I'm surprised you're going far enough that you would seek me out to warn me."

"You're the Lady of the Labyrinth. Not equal to me in title, obviously, but close enough that I'm somewhat responsible for you and I enjoy your temperament enough that keeping you safe is something that I feel I should do." He shrugged, and allowed her to take a step or two away in a twirl.

"I didn't know I won a spot on your court," Sarah said, brow furrowing.

"You didn't. Merely the title. But it's enough that you can feel free to attend any and all social gatherings of the Underground that you wish. The goblins are _very_ much interested in debating with you," he said conspiratorially, winking.

She laughed, "Thanks, I'll pass."

"Pity," he said with an easy smile, spinning her around the hind legs of a very familiar centaur. "What did you think of the room's design this year?"

"Was this you?" she said, looking around to recognize the similarities. A glowing crystal floated by and she smiled. Crystals were a popular way to store power, but they were also kind of Jareth's thing. Maybe she should've made the connection.

"I provided the idea and some magic. Terry and I both pitched in with maybe a fourth of the crystals. The rest was the team and other monarchs' donated energies."

She 'hmmed' a reply, her eye catching on her father and Karen dancing not too far away, then turned back to him. "I like it. It's a lot like the room where – " – No, she shouldn't mention that, just in case – "The room with all the staircases."

"The Escher Room," Jareth said, eyes twinkling with acknowledgement of her skirting the subject of their confrontation; she blushed. "Yes, I believe that was where they did most of their tests to copy the magic for this room." She smiled at his teasing, then, minding the way the music was winding down, thanked him for the dance. He bent down in a comically-flourished bow to kiss her hand and straightened up, looking serious. "Please remember what I told you: be careful. Also – this might be more important for you – do not be surprised if something particularly unexpected happens. If it does, it was meant to."

She shivered at the slightly haunting advice and nodded. He watched her, an unsettling, calculating look in his eye, then made a frighteningly swift movement towards her. She froze and he hovered, close enough to her that his breath tickled her ear when he whispered intently _"Be safe."_

And then he disappeared, though a quick glance around revealed he'd actually moved himself to the other side of the room and was interrupting a conversation between Terry and a couple with flatteringly blue skin. Sarah frowned at him for a moment, before she realized she was on a crowded dance floor and had to move.

[-M-]

The Williamses returned to their house in New York State a day later.

The following week was spent adjusting again, the event in the city having exposed them to a great deal of magic and opening their eyes to the world around them even more. What amazed Sarah was Karen's remarkable ability to take everything in stride, which was thrown under a spotlight when Toby dragged a skinny, brown-haired girl with eerie green eyes and frighteningly jagged, pointy teeth home and proclaimed her to be half-selkie, and staying for dinner. Karen merely nodded to the beet-red pre-teen, admonished Toby for proclaiming it like he was selling newspapers, and asked her if she had any dietary habits she should take into account while making spaghetti. The ex-Labyrinth runner nearly had a fit.

It seemed the friendship with the girl (whose name turned out to be Lila) was good for the blonde boy, as she was very much used to seeing everything that had Toby foaming at the mouth and could explain some of the more unusual things to him when he saw them. What worried Sarah (and Karen, only less-so because Sarah had apparently done this, too, and she was sure Toby and Lila were just hitting the phase early) was how the two would often be very secretive, and spend much time hovering around a small cosmetic mirror owned by Lila, which Sarah suspected they were using to spy on someone. When she asked, Toby told her he had a secret to keep, and that she, having been silent about a whole world for ten years herself, should respect that. So Sarah did her best.

Two days after this confrontation, another meeting was held between their employer – "Sigmund, Sarah," Tasha had admonished, "He'll find out that we never bother to remember his name if we don't _use_ it once in a while!" – and the team in a small conference room they found at the local library, where they ran over the assignments details again for Sarah's benefit. She was humbled by this, and apologized to Sigmund endlessly for the inconvenience. It only took them about ten minutes to get to the reason for having another meeting.

The ratio in time between one Earth hour and one hour on Harena was thirteen to one. That meant that if they spent a week on the planet as expected, they would be gone for three months. If for some reason their ride into the nearest city was unavailable, that would extend to six. Sarah would be gone for half a year. Assuming she called her family once a night, she'd be contacting them about every two weeks at most.

Sarah returned to the house with a weight in her chest and couldn't really tell them until dinner, when she spat it out and caused everyone to put their forks down and stare. Rather than look any of them in the face, she kept her gaze fixed on the peas and waited for someone to speak. Her father cleared his throat, but didn't say anything. She chanced a glance across the table at Karen and saw that the older woman was waiting for her to make eye contact.

Karen coughed. "It sounds like this will be quite a trip. Where will you be going?"

Sarah looked around the table. "Harena. We're going to be retrieving an artifact for our latest employer. The pay is forty million dollars." Toby sucked in a breath at that, but her father and Karen merely met eyes and kept quiet. "We're, um…" she took a breath, "I'm sorry that I'm going to leave so soon after all of this," she waved a hand at Meep, who'd taken to sitting in on their dinners and playing with the plastic toys from kids' meals at burger restaurants, "And that it's going to be for such a long time. Since I won't be able to talk to you while I'm travelling, I can only call you before bed and that means we'll be speaking around every twelve days. So…" But she couldn't think of anything else to say.

Richard gave a long sigh and reached over to clasp her hand, giving her the same look he'd given her when she'd sat down to talk to them about not wanting to go to college. "Sarah. We love you. This is what you wanted to do with your life, and you shouldn't let something like this get in the way of that. We can wait for the once-ever-two-weeks calls. We can even record things to tell you if you want us to. Just remember to be careful."

Sarah smiled at this, touched that her father, who was normally caught between her, Karen's and Toby's personalities had braved sounding corny to get his point across. Across the table, Karen smiled her best I'm-your-stepmother-but-I-love-you-like-you're-mine-and-I'm-so-proud-of-you smile.

Toby grinned, "You're bringing us back souvenirs, right?"

[-M-]

Sarah choked when Angie sat on her stomach deliberately, pushing on the now-twenty-year-old's spandex-clad hip and very much regretting eating the other half of the enormous burrito Isaac and Tasha had purchased for her from the popular Mexican chain restaurant that had popped up on their street corner. Angie herself was still eating hers, and emphatically leaning backwards and putting more weight on her bum while gulping cola in between bites. Eventually she decided that torturing Sarah was less fun when crumbs got all over the place, and left in search of napkins. Sarah took the opportunity to sit up and groan.

They'd be leaving the next morning, and had just finished packing, Isaac and Tasha making a joint effort in making sandwiches that wouldn't get too dry after their third day at the bottom of several lumpy backpacks. They never kept a backpack just for food as they'd gotten separated too many times in the past, and storing food in a cooler or some other container took up too much space in the packs. As it was, they were attempting to fit two weeks' worth of underclothes and socks in with enough toiletries, sunscreen, soap, aloe and bandages – not to mention spell ingredients and water – into four packs that, while still large, had to be light enough for them to carry each day, so trying to bring Tupperware containers along would be a huge waste.

A few minutes later, Tasha called for her and Angie to enter the kitchen and pack their food. Everyone received seven sandwiches, large enough to split and count as fourteen dinners, two large packets of crackers, some bags of trail mix, a few fruits and a _lot_ of chocolate bars, for their small size and high calorie content. Tasha also gave everyone several packets of the same protein powder Sarah'd had on her assignment on Frostbite Incarnate and Isaac patiently explained the function of the small but never-emptying water bottles they'd received from Sigmund as a gift. They would be invaluable on the journey, what with the constant threat of dehydration, so long as no-one actually drank all of the water at once and gave the bottles a few moments to refill after sips.

Everyone, excluding Angie, took a moment to say goodbye to their families before going to bed and made sure to wash thoroughly before going to sleep. It was unlikely they'd get to shower anytime soon. After a few beers and several tall glasses of water (everyone looked the other way when Angie popped open a can; she'd taken as much risk with her life as any of them), they all fell asleep on top of each other in the living room, the TV on and filling the room with a blue glow.

…

…

A/N: Shorter than usual, but I'll live. Still willing to answer questions, so long as you log in so I can PM you.

Review, please!


	5. Chapter 5

True to form, Angie poked Sarah's ribs repeatedly to wake her up. It was one of those gray mornings where no-one disputed her need for black coffee with lots of sugar and any more food than a croissant would take up far too much room in her stomach. Nonetheless, Isaac was reheating frozen waffles in the toaster while Tasha nibbled on a soggy French toast stick. She was on the phone with what sounded like her sister and kept murmuring small assurances that the other girl would do fine on her midterms. Isaac and Angie were the only ones who had gone on assignments in realms where time passed slower than it did on Earth (though Angie's was more like a vacation, as she'd merely been a arm candy for an ambassador), so both Tasha and Sarah were anxious about their families.

Though she knew Toby would likely feel upset if he learned she'd had a few minutes in which she could've talked to them, she chose not to hog a mirror and instead took the crispiest waffle she could find, folded it in half, and began filling the inside with syrup. To her right, Angie imitated her, and Isaac poured everyone mugs of his hazelnut coffee. With an enormous sigh, Tasha hung up and looked around at them.

Angie smiled, "Well? Are we gonna go earn forty million dollars, or what?"

That did it. The melancholy mood was gone, replaced by the team that had been working together for three years. Quickly, they drank their caffeine and munched on overly-sweet defrosted pastries, rinsing their dishes and sticky hands, then scampered off to put on their clothes and put the food from the fridge into their packs. Sarah sat patiently while Tasha weaved a French braid into her hair – this way, she wouldn't have to brush it for several days, though sleeping would probably be uncomfortable. With everyone suited up and antsy, they sent Terry a message, Isaac dropped off this month's rent, and they lined up in front of the bathroom mirror. First Isaac, then Angie, then Sarah, then Tasha went in.

Sarah gave an _'oof!'_ as she dropped onto annoyingly hard sand, the wind shifting several grains into her face. Behind them, a gargantuan rock formation jutted out of the dunes, the side that they were on eerily resembling a crying human face. Isaac was already standing and looking around, and Angie rubbed her bottom with a huge scowl on her face. Tasha had managed to land on her feet _somehow_ and was looking around with the same grim expression Isaac was sporting. They were the only humans around for miles. The team of horses Sigmund had arranged for hadn't made it. They were going to be spending one-and-a-half weeks walking to the nearest city on foot.

Sarah swore and removed her pack and folded her jacket into it, then began smearing her arms with sunscreen. They harsh wind that was pelting her face with sand canceled out the sun's oppressive heat nicely, but it was still far, _far_ too warm for her liking. Tasha did the same, and Isaac took the time to apply sunscreen to his nose and ears. Angie, who had done all of this already, stretched, the wind lifting her skirt and exposing a thigh's worth of potion ingredients, tiny crystals, and, of all things, a _gun,_ along with some very nice panties. Once all the adjustments were done with, they double-checked their shoelaces (Sarah and Isaac just tightening the straps on theirs) and started walking.

[-M-]

"Do you know how cold it _gets_ at night? _Freezing!_ I am wearing my jacket, sleeping in the same bag I had on Antarctica – "

"Frigus, Sarah," corrected Tasha and Angie, who were both spreading out their sleeping bags.

" – _and_ I'm underneath a _wool_ blanket and I'm _still _cold!" Sarah finished, glaring at Toby's dubious expression.

They'd been in Harena for the last week, and only now had come close enough to the city they were aiming for to be able to see some trees in the distance. They'd chosen to settle down for the night as a kind of 'congratulations' and spent the entire evening chatting with friends and families around a tiny campfire (which they were sure wouldn't be too unusual since civilization was close by), eating marshmallows that Angie had procured out of nowhere, giving each other massages to ease aches in calves and shoulders and generally making lazy bums of themselves.

"My face is covered in red spots. Your argument is invalid," he said flippantly.

She scoffed, "It's just acne, Toby. I had it too."

"Yeah? Did you get Mom wiping your face with moist towelettes every ten minutes, with or _without_ _your permission?"_ He emphasized the last three words, glaring indignantly at a spot behind the small handheld mirror. Sarah imagined Karen rolling her eyes.

"No," she admitted, "But I _did_ endure name-calling from Cindy Walleen. Bitch."

"_Sarah,"_ Karen's warning rung out oddly from the compact.

"Sorry Karen," she called, then stuck her tongue out at Toby's snickering face, "How's Lila?" She saw Toby pause and her suspicions peaked.

"Bummed," he admitted, "Her parents are fighting again."

"Oh." Sarah said. That wasn't what she was expecting. "Does she need advice?"

"No. Her dad's an ass, plain and simple."

"_Toby,"_ Karen's voice came through again.

"Sorry, Mom. Anyway, she'll be over here next time; she just couldn't today 'cause her dad was on a business trip and she doesn't get that much time alone with her mom." Toby shrugged, and Sarah started to see a bit more of the lie. She didn't say anything. The quiet was broken by Karen's excited _"Richard!_ Sarah's calling!" The sound of someone hastily kicking off shoes, and soon her dad's face replaced Toby's in her mirror.

Sarah's expression softened, "Hi, Dad."

"Hello, princess. How is everything?"

And so Sarah went into her rant about deserts and how inhumane they were, how she kept finding sand in unmentionable places, and how she really wished they could be here for the sunsets because those were, actually, pretty cool. Sarah's father had obtained a plate of alfredo sometime in the middle and was taking bites in between telling her about a movie they'd seen and how Toby and Lila really did seem to be attached at the hip. Sarah smiled fondly as he unloaded some of the funnier work stories he'd acquired. Two boys had obtained red and blue sports drinks and decided to drive around, shining flash lights through them and making others pull over. He was defending one of them, and took great pleasure in describing their stupidity.

"And then – if you'll believe it – he starts going _'Wee-_ooh, _wee-_ooh!' right there! I thought she was going to kick him in the, well…" her father chuckled as Sarah gripped the compact hard, giggling.

"Sarah?" called Terry from Isaac's shaving mirror.

"Nothing to report," she called back, turning back to her father, grinning.

"Don't tell me that! His Highness wants to know how you're doing."

Sarah's mirth faded. "Why?" she asked, forgetting the mirror with her father's image in her hand. Isaac's smirk was evil as he handed her his mirror to free up his hands and get to work on setting up his own sleeping space. Sarah took the small object and peered inquisitively into her agent's face.

Terry grinned, enjoying her curiosity, "Well, why _would_ a hot-blooded male inquire as to the well-being of one Sarah Williams?"

"_Ahem."_

Sarah's face heated beyond reasonable temperatures as she turned fearfully to her father's somewhat amused face. "Um."

He gave a chuckle, "I think we've pretty much told you every amusing thing we can scrape out of two weeks in this town. We'll wait for your next phone call."

She smiled, still red, "Bye, Daddy. I love you guys."

"Bye, sweetie." His face rippled out of existence.

She turned back to Terry, who looked a little uncomfortable at having interrupted a phone call between her and her father. Good. "Alright, now that you've embarrassed me in front of my dad, tell me what's going on."

"Nothing, really," the man shrugged, "He's your friend and Harena's not the most suitable environment for a human. Or anything, really. He's checking in, just like the rest of us."

Sarah pursed her lips. "I'm melting during the day and freezing at night, I have sand in places I didn't even know I _had_ and my sandwiches are soggy because Tasha apparently didn't learn her lesson from the one time she cooked dinner: tomatoes are wet."

His lips twitched, "Can I quote you on that?"

"Alright!" Isaac strode over, "I have set up my place of rest and now require my mirror to tell my mother I am alive."

"Use mine," Sarah said, "I'm busy with yours."

"No way! I'm not using a compact!"

"Of course not!" Terry contributed, "Shaving mirrors are the only things macho enough for calls to one's mother."

Isaac sagged, "Give me the damn mirror."

Sarah relented, "Here." She picked her own up off the ground and stowed it inside her pack.

The blonde man took the shaving mirror and called for his mother, and Sarah took the time to pull what was left of her braid out of her hair. One week. One week until she was able to bathe, brush her teeth, sleep in a bed, eat ice cream… She gave a sort of moan and flopped onto her sleeping bag, pulling her blanket and the outside of the bag around her. Her companions murmured a 'goodnight' and, with a nod, she went to sleep.

[-M-]

With the city in sight, everyone found the energy to move faster and they were inside the community's defensive wall before sundown. To Sarah's surprise, water was free in this realm, though tainting the clean water that ran in the fountains and pipes of the city was punishable by death. Everyone was free to fill entire tubs with water from the fountain then drag them home to bathe. Despite the abundance of it, they did not take the time to try any of the city's famously sweet water and instead got directions from vendors to the large temple that was their goal. There were many knowing grins and attempts at selling them charms or talismans to help them, but they pushed the scams aside and focused on the dusty road out of the busy town.

It was dark before they found a place to camp for the night, and they ignored their fatigue to take the time to give their parents long explanations and assurances that no contact didn't absolutely mean they were dead, but that they were probably keeping quiet in case they were heard by the guards inside the place of worship. It took some time to calm the frantic Karen down; telling her that they'd all been in similar situations did not seem to reassure her. Everyone gave long, meaningful goodbyes to their families, Sarah taking care to reassure the slightly panicky Lila as well, and then went to bed.

In the morning, Sarah woke to a long, loud scream. Angie had a spider on her face.

Though everyone very much wanted to shut her up, no-one was very willing to actually touch it to smack it off and they settled for taking her hand and making her move it herself, calling it a learning experience when she shrieked at them for it. Though the shade and abundance of firewood was nice, everyone agreed that the humidity and wildlife was too high a price to pay and decided that they would buy a room at an inn next time, or camp out outside the wall. Angie was the main advocate for that argument.

They put on clean underwear and stumbled towards the impressive structure, noses wrinkling whenever they saw another pike with a human skull on it. Tasha, the resident expert on storming fortresses (_"No,_ Sarah, the Goblin King's castle does not count. They're _goblins. _They'll anyone in if you use big-enough words."), lead them around to find what she called the 'back door', as coming in from the front was way too obvious. Judging by the abundance of bones, though, Sarah guessed coming in from the back was pretty obvious, too. After the third skeleton, she and Angie shared a look, but didn't say anything.

Tasha and Isaac marched ahead, finally coming upon an unobtrusive hole littered with unpleasant reminders of mortality exactly opposite the main entrance. Angie started towards it, gripping her pack's straps in preparation, but Isaac held her back.

"Wait," he murmured, with his eye on Tasha.

The Russian was looking around calculatingly, with much pacing. After a minute or so of staring at the space littered with human remains, she turned around and surveyed the area, her eyes coming to rest on a boulder covered in sand, dust and bird droppings. She marched towards it, pulling a cloth out of her bag that she dampened with water from her never-emptying bottle and began wiping the filth off of it, cleaning nearly an entire side before she found what she was looking for: a small, crude carving of a circle with a line through it, looking very much like a cat's eye, if the cat in question was stoned. Isaac grinned and squeezed the surprised Angie's shoulder, jogging over quickly to help kick the sand away from the rock. Once Sarah and Angie joined in, they quickly uncovered a tiny wooden door which Tasha kicked open with a small smirk.

It took Sarah a moment to realize why the woman had stopped. She looked around, a very heady scent of men's cologne and roses – no, chocolate and lavender bubble bath – no, _peaches_ – swirling around her.

Everything was spinning, and the sun seemed far, far too bright.

[-M-]

_Toby tied his sneakers tightly, double-knotting the laces as a precaution and stuffed the ugly, orange hat Sarah had given him into his jacket pocket. Glancing around to check if his mother was nearby, he opened the cupboard above the laundry and pulled out two packets of trail mix to share in addition to what Lila was going to bring in case they got hungry. They were going to be watching the house again, and that meant sitting one the cold ground for a very, very long time and not moving too much in case they disturbed the trees. They also couldn't eat anything too fragrant – Lila had almost gotten them caught with hot chocolate one day – in case someone walking by smelled it, and despite their best efforts, the steam hot food made when coming into contact with the still-chilly air would tip off anyone with working eyes. So they stayed cold._

_Lila's mother was a selkie. A woman who wore the skin of a seal. Her father had managed to trick her out of it and then hid it to prevent her escaping. The woman, who Toby knew as Mrs. Riordan, became a trophy wife, cooking, cleaning and smiling prettily at Christmas parties on the arm of her husband. She was also an alcoholic. It was really no secret that the woman was depressed; she smiled when you spoke to her, didn't act like anything was the matter when someone else was in the room, but even Toby, who'd spent a total of maybe five minutes in her presence, could taste the bitterness, anger and misery that hung around the woman like cigarette smoke._

_Lila's father cheerfully ignored this, acting as friendly as possible to anyone and everyone he was with, but his good nature seemed to end with his wife, turning into short, clipped sentences and one-word orders to iron his suit for tomorrow's meeting, remember to _make_ the mango chutney, not purchase it, tutor Lila in math because her grade had gone down to a C, and did she actually want a child who was stuck cleaning toilets for a living? To Toby's great relief, the magic that was spun around the myth didn't extend to Lila, and Mrs. Riordan could act normally with her, ranting about her father, giving her some of the chores around the house to do, and so on. Toby made sure to pitch in when he was over, he and Lila actually using their Saturdays to clean her house and attempt to take a load off the woman whose enchantment left her a slave to her husband's ideals for a home. Mrs. Riordan seemed to appreciate this, and though she couldn't actually talk about the curse with him present, she _could_ talk to him about the myth concerning selkies and ways to free them._

_Which was why he and Lila were spending spring break on damp grass, holding hands to keep the magic of Toby's hat on both of them – they'd discovered it could extend past just the wearer if there was enough intent in it – and watching a small townhouse intently to learn the typical schedules of those inside._

_The house was usually unoccupied, except when Mr. Riordan was in it. He came by around noon every day, no-doubt to obsessively check on the selkie skin (which they'd determined was inside, Lila pointing out the ungodly amount of magical protection on the place) and to re-adjust anything that needed adjusting. Lila, being the one with her right hand free, wrote all of this down in a cheap seventy-count notebook that she sent home with Toby every day in case her father found it. Toby did his part by providing the hat and generally being there to make her seem less suspicious. A couple hiding in the bushes was much more nonchalant than a girl with a notebook and ("Once, Toby! And it's not like I'm doing it 'cause I want to see what underpants he wears! I'm doing it to _save_ my mom!") binoculars._

_Toby squeezed Lila's hand in their silent assurance of 'everything's good'. Her father's car had disappeared around the corner and was probably on its way to his office building, twenty minutes away._

_Lila let out a huge breath and released his hand, stomping her feet a bit to get rid of the numbness that had been creeping up on them. "Great. So, nothing new. All the defenses look exactly the same." She pulled out the sandwiches and bag of potato chips her mother had packed for them and began munching on hers, flipping through their notebook thoughtfully. They knew the layout of the house probably better than anyone, and could navigate their way around the backyard's magic traps blindfolded. How a human man had gotten his hands on most of the stuff needed to protect a house like that without his sister's connections Toby did not know._

_He smiled, "Great. Then everything's good to go, we just need that key."_

"_About that," said Lila, and pulled a small silver key out of her pocket._

_Toby swallowed, the deliciously moist-with-mayonnaise sandwich suddenly becoming too dry for him to swallow. "You have it?"_

"_Uh-huh." She said nervously. "I know where he keeps it. But I have to go home and put it back before he comes back and notices."_

_Toby paused, taking another bite of the bacon sandwich and staring at the grass. There was a good chance that Lila's father might change the hiding place if he noticed the key had moved, even if he thought his daughter or wife had just chanced across it when putting the laundry away or something. He was that paranoid. Toby shook his head, "No. We're going in there right now, before he stops driving and has access to a mirror." He stuffed the remainder of his sandwich into his mouth and chewed laboriously._

_Lila gaped. _"Right now?_ But we don't have _nearly_ enough stuff with us! We need – crystals – and mirrors in case of – !" Toby shook his head 'no', still chewing. A moment of silence stretched out between them in which Lila seemed to change her mind enough to agree with him. "Okay," she said, bouncing a little with the excitement, "Okay, I'll go in. Here, give me your hat." She reached out to take it and Toby pushed her hand away, finally swallowing._

"_No way!" He said, "You're not going in alone. That place's worse than the Pentagon. You've gotta have someone at your back."_

_She frowned, "Toby, you don't have _any_ magic! Every time you see something it's because it was pointed out to you before!"_

"So?"_ he asked, trying not to show her how irritated he was that she'd brought that up, "You hardly have any, either. You're just a little better suited to spells and can swim well – that's not magic!" He scowled brilliantly, and took off his hat to grip it tightly in his hands in case she tried to take it._

_She paused, searching his face. Precious seconds ticked by in which – and he knew she was thinking the same thing – Lila's father was racing towards his workplace in which he could get up easily to go to the bathroom and use a mirror to climb into the tiny townhouse he'd bought to hide the selkie skin. Worrying her lip, she nodded. He put on the hat firmly, then grabbed her hand and walked around the bush they'd been hiding behind. They jogged quickly to the door and Lila shakily put the key in the slot, turned it, and gripped the knob. They stepped inside._

…

…

A/N: Review, please.


	6. Chapter 6

_Sarah twirled, spinning fast enough for her skirt to leave the ground, and smiled at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair, much longer now than it had been a year ago, looped around her like a gymnastics streamer determined to ignore realistic hair movements and added an impossible grace to her childish action. She remembered, back when she'd first arrived in the Underground, her hair was constantly getting tangled and filthy, its dull chestnut brown color looking awfully mundane, especially when compared to His Majesty's surreal appearance._

_Said 'Majesty' stood not three feet away, eyeing the gown objectively. It was the last of six that he'd ordered, and the simplest, Sarah knew, as he was determined to outfit her in dresses suitable for someone of her stature, though she couldn't understand why. Her job was to provide helpful insights to the Labyrinth, and much of the time was spent alongside the runners, walking them through it in the way that only the inhabitants could see, as they knew all the lessons the Labyrinth had to teach down to the wording. Her patience with the bratty children was not to be envied, though, and she often left through a conveniently-appearing door in a huff, only to be sent back by the King when he discovered her skipping. She _hated_ getting sent back by him. It was like being lectured by one of the professors, who acted like she'd insulted them personally every time she used slang that she'd picked up from…somewhere._

_That was the mystery. Most-everyone in the Labyrinth knew who she was and treated her with respect that she, with her lack of knowledge about the history of the Underground, her disregard for social graces and which fork she was supposed to eat salads with, was unlikely to have earned. She arrived in the Underground with no memory of how she'd gotten there, who anyone was (though she'd held affection for the king, the dwarf who'd found her – Hoggle – a knight who was actually a fox called Didymus, and a slightly frightening orange beast she'd learned was called Ludo that reinforced everyone's claims that she'd been there before), and what she'd been doing before she'd been woken by a worried fairy-exterminator._

_Everyone seemed to know all about her, and it was that much more frustrating that no-one would say. According to Sir Didymus, she was under a spell and she had to remember her story on her own to break it. Fat load of good that was when no-one wanted to help her. Trying to remember herself only yielded the usual results: I'm Sarah. I'm twenty-five years old. I like pizza and I don't like broccoli. She couldn't remember anything about a family or friends or a home, which worried her occasionally – what if someone was in trouble? What if they died by the time she could remember and get to them? However, her fears were eased expertly by the Goblin King – who acted much more familiar with her than a monarch ought to, she should note – who'd said that, since worrying yielded no fruit in the way of memory, she should stop before she started weeping over a family that, for all she knew, didn't even exist._

_What was more frightening than the memory loss, perhaps, was how attuned she was to her surroundings even though her gut told her this was not home. She knew every inch of the Labyrinth to which she was guide inside and out, doors and tunnels popping up whenever she decided where she needed to go, skirting around oubliettes and other even less pleasant traps as if they weren't there. She knew when there was a stranger in the Labyrinth and whether they were a runner or a guest of the king who'd gotten lost. If a creature could not find its way home (it did not happen too much, but with the younger ones, it occurred often enough), it needed only to beg the Labyrinth for help and was usually led to her. She was an impossibility in the Labyrinth: a map. Her knowledge about the shifting structure was as finite as the king's, though she wasn't nearly as flashy and foreboding with her visits to the runners and she couldn't appear and disappear like he did. At least, not yet._

_Though no-one had said anything, it was increasingly obvious – her hair's recent demonstration was merely proof. She was turning into one of the Fae. Her skin had become fairer than the sunburnt, oily mess it was when she'd first arrived, smooth and free of the light freckles she knew she was supposed to have. Her hair had darkened to the silky black of Turkish coffee and had acquired the same quality as His Highness' and any other Fae that Sarah had met: it never tangled, and kept its glossy, clean sheen indefinitely, smelling and feeling exactly the same, even if she hadn't washed it in five days, and always orienting itself where it would do her appearance the most good. Her eyes were the most unnerving, their usual twinkle becoming more of a glow; two bright pinpricks on a pale, wild face framed by lush, dark hair. And though it did wonders for Sarah's self-esteem, it also scared her that she couldn't recognize the face in the mirror once in a while._

_This was why His Majesty was taking such an interest in her. Taking into account her role in the Labyrinth and the unknown history between her and what seemed like every other creature in the kingdom (they all knew her by name!), her being ignorant of her own power was dangerous. To illustrate this point, the Goblin King had pressed a crystal into her palm and told her the dangers of losing control as she watched his famed Escher Room break into what was nearly nonbeing. Thankfully, he had restored it afterwards, because she absolutely loved the structure and the gravity-defying staircases, but the thought of making the world crash down around her like that all because of an emotional breakdown was terrifying._

_So she learned._

_She learned to make crystals and to lift objects much, much heavier than her. She learned to make her jumps lift her six times higher into the air and to run as fast as a prized horse. She learned to see people without mirrors and to carry messages to them from long distances with only her voice. She learned to make herself unseen when she wanted to and to use glamours to make her opinion the favored one. She learned she could make food appear if she knew what was needed and how to make it, and clothes and objects if she was not too tired. After much, much practice and frustration, she learned, under His Majesty's patient tutelage, to see things that weren't on the physical plane in her crystals: dreams and nightmares and ideas but _never,_ the Goblin King had impressed on her, _never_ the future._

_Along with all this, she learned about the Underground and its relationships with neighboring realms. She learned about the Conqueror who enslaved worlds in the name of peace, then vanished without a trace. She learned about the life-giving dragon that had breathed magic into the most beautiful realms and the darkness that festered in the universe where it had died. She learned about the wars the Underground had endured (giggling at the almanac that indicated that each line on the King's face appeared in accordance with each problem) and when the first settlers had arrived to live in the Labyrinth under the King's reign, among the goblins. She learned about plagues and droughts and humans challenging the monarchy – though, she noted, the latest chapter would not allow itself to be read and her professor was unwilling to answer her questions._

_And then, just as the King had nodded his approval at her attire and said that it was appropriate for the evening meal, she heard the words that seemed to echo throughout the head of each resident of the Labyrinth, (slightly altered this time, but no matter): _"I wish the goblins would come and take us away, right now!"

[-M-]

_It was not in the house._

How was it not in the house?!

_They checked every closet, looked inside every vent, and they could not find the skin. Lila assured him that any invisibility spells that may or may not have been on the seal skin could've been sensed by them, but they could not find it, as the inside of the house was – bare. There was no furniture, no food in the fridge, no pans in the cupboards. There were no soaps or shampoos in the bathrooms, not even any toilet paper to indicate that someone used them, ever._

_Something was very, very wrong._

_Toby was very much regretting having convinced Lila to enter the creepy house. It looked normal from outside, apart from the many, shining layers of magical protection blocking the windows and garage door. But inside, there was nothing. No trace of magic, no trace of _life._ It was like the dwelling of a serial killer and Toby regretted entering as soon as he stepped inside. He was grateful for the fact that the hat's magic required physical contact because he needed reassurance that there was another living person on Earth right now. From the way Lila's grip was turning the tips of his fingers red, she needed it, too._

"_We should get out of here." And maybe leave the country; put some distance between them and Lila's creeper of a dad._

"_We – we haven't checked the garage yet." Her voice shook and Toby managed to swallow an 'I don't care'. If it was his mom, he'd be looking everywhere, too. They meandered over to the kitchen and through the mud room to the insulated door that led to the garage. "It's locked," Lila said shakily, gripping his hand even tighter and reaching to turn the metal bit shining with the light from the window on behind them._

"_Wait," he said with a dry throat._

_She turned on him, "I _need_ to save my mother, Toby! I know this is – weird – but I _have_ to check, just to tell her that I did, that we tried."_

"_And what if it's a body? What if your dad's a – ?"_

_She cut him off, "If you were scared, then you should've waited outside, behind the bushes."_

"_Yeah. And let you walk into the psycho house alone," he paused, and shifted so that he was closer to the door, "Get behind me. I'm a hundred-and-fifteen pounds, so I'm probably heavier than you – you're probably about ninety – so if anything jumps I can push it down and we can run." Her face turned bright red at that and she nodded mutely, stepping behind him, giving him access to the door. He gave her a weird look but couldn't think of anything that would cause that reaction, so he quick turned the lock and opened the door into the garage. It was colder than the rest of the house, but a bit warmer than it was outside, he noticed as he stepped in carefully, though quite a bit darker. An ominous ticking alerted him to the glare that was shining off a glass cover somewhere across from them. Lila stepped in beside him and flipped the switch for the light._

_It was a clock._

_Large, metal, but hardly imposing, with thirteen hours carved into its face in gold. Beneath it, a pendulum swung serenely. So, no bodies. Not even anything remotely harmful._

_He stepped forward and Lila pulled him back, "Look at the floor."_

_He looked – really looked – and saw what she was talking about, what he'd chosen to ignore the first time he glanced about the room. The clock was standing in a circle, drawn in blue sidewalk chalk, the kind you got at department stores for summer. A language he was fairly certain was Latin was scribbled in a spiral around the timepiece, the occasional obelisk interrupting them._

"_What do you think it is?" she whispered loudly and he couldn't think of anything less sarcastic than 'A clock.' She glared at him, "Yes, I know, _why is the clock here?"

_He walked around the circle carefully, pulling Lila along behind him until he could see some of the less visible pictures on the circle. A skull. An hourglass. A baby (or a worm, but for the sake of Mr. Riordan's drawing skills, he'd say it was a baby). "I think…" he said slowly, "That this all reminds me of a computer game." When it looked like she was about to kill him, he hurriedly continued, "And in this computer game, there was this evil wizard who wanted to become immortal. He had this book, and every page had some sort of symbol on it – the skull, the baby, the obelisk – and he was using it to become immortal."_

"_You think this is for immortality?" The horrified tone in her voice assured him that that was possible._

_And he was suddenly aware that they'd broken into an abusive husband's garage, found a clock that was probably made using the blood of babies or something, and that they were just standing there. _

"_Let's _leave first_ and _then_ talk about it, okay?" he said, a bit guilty at the bite in his words, but Lila seemed to not have noticed._

_After checking that they hadn't left footprints in any chalk dust lying around, they crept back out – making sure to lock the garage door – and left, double-checking for any trace of their presence in the still-creepy, empty house. After locking the front door and making their way to a park nearby, Toby removed his hat and they were free to walk home without holding hands._

"_Why would he want immortality, though?" Toby asked._

_Lila shot him a look, "Yeah, 'cause living indefinitely's pretty awful."_

_Toby shrugged, "I mean, isn't it supposed to be really hard to do – crime against nature, that sort of thing?"_

_Lila shook her head, "No. It's actually pretty easy, if you've got enough magic. I'll probably live to be two hundred, though I won't look too great near the end, and Mom's – " She broke off, look of horror dawning on her face._

_Toby quickly caught on, "Your mom's immortal already, isn't she? He's just trying to keep up."_

"_More like trying to make sure he's doesn't loose his slave. _Damn_ it," she swore, biting her thumbnail viciously and glaring at the ground. "We've been kidding ourselves – he wouldn't hide it anywhere near us," she said, voice bubbling with hysteria, "It's probably in Poland or something! God – and I can't go anywhere now! What if – by the time I can travel by myself – what if by then he's _actually_ immortal and…"_

_Damn it. She was starting to cry. Toby awkwardly gave her a one-armed hug and muttered something like 'Don't worry, we'll find it, what else am I supposed to do during spring break?' and tried not to look like he was looking around for people who might see them and laugh. Or giggle, like some girls from school did when they saw them together. That was the worst. And how many times were they going to get caught holding hands when his mother tried to negate the hat's magic by calling him by name?_

_Biting back an annoyed mutter, Toby turned to the snuffly girl _(my,_ that red nose was flattering) and did his best to calm her down, "You're the best at seeing magic-stuff that I know. You'll find it. So please stop crying. Selkie or not, your mom will kick my ass if she thinks I made you cry."_

_That made her laugh and she thanked him awkwardly, somehow slipping her hand into his on their way home. He tried not to show how embarrassed he felt, figuring that it was better than a hug in public, and kept up a semi-humorous conversation as he walked her home and reminded her to hide the key. They'd find the skin. They had a long time to do it. And Sarah would be calling tonight; he shouldn't show he was upset by anything._

_But Sarah didn't call. And she didn't call in the next two weeks, either._

_It continued that way for three months, until Terry showed up to tell them that Sarah's team was MIA, though the Goblin King had told him that Sarah, and thus, presumably, the rest of her team, was alive. They bit their lips and fisted their hands over having let her go, but determinedly didn't fault themselves and moved on. He didn't give the Labyrinth or its ruler much thought until later._

_Later, when he was facing down a man who was nearly foaming at the mouth as he surveyed the damage to his magic-ed clock and locked his eyes on his shaky but resolutely protective wife, who stood in front of him and Lila with all the firmness any parent would have. He debated the Labyrinth's dangers and the way the man had started to draw something on the garage wall while spitting threats at his wife and child and came to the conclusion that the Bog of Eternal Stench was much less dangerous than this._

"I wish the goblins would come and take us away, right now!"

…

…

A/N: Yuck. She's turning into a Mary Sue, God help me. Also, MATH. Sweet mother of – _math!_ So many ratios! My equations say that Harena : Earth: the Underground :: 1/13 : 1 : 2.8 so by spending an extra two weeks on Harena, which is half a year on Earth, Sarah spends one year, one hundred and forty-four days, fifteen hours and thirty-six minutes in the Underground. I should not be doing math over the summer. It's inhumane. And Lila, teehee! Guys always assume girls are lighter than they are when its usually the opposite and we…kind of die inside, actually. So this was Lila, dying.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Change of plans. We will _not_ be going over Lila's father issues in this chapter. Oh, well.

…

…

Sarah inhaled deeply and sat up, feet searching around the stone floor for the slippers she'd left there last night. Her toes recoiled from the cold, and she forced herself to actually open her eyes and look for them. Sliding her feet into the small, all-cloth shoes that did nothing to protect her feet from the tile unless she'd roasted them in front of a fire beforehand, she moved sluggishly to the other, smaller room in which a deep metal tub had been filled with heated water for her to bathe.

She would've loved to continue sleeping, but it seemed that her professors absolutely would not wait, because every morning she'd tried to sleep in (except when she didn't have lessons or an appointment with somebody), her bedroom started a mutiny. Well, not right away. She was usually woken by her pillows pushing her into a sitting position, and if she resisted, her blanket would move out of reach. If even this was ignored, her mattress would tip her onto the cold floor and the basin that rested on a shelf nearby would empty itself on her. Not a good way to start the morning, especially if she had lessons with the Goblin King, who loved laughing at her more than children loved sweets.

Now in the tub, Sarah watched as a bar of soap and a sponge floated over, dunked themselves in the water, then began rubbing together furiously. There were no servants in the Castle Beyond the Goblin City, only things. It was always interesting how each object in the kingdom seemed to have a personality – every object in the castle, especially. Everything was capable of flight, to better serve its inhabitants. Similarly, food and water seemed to appear regularly of their own accord: her basin was always clean, even if she'd turned it brown with dirt from gardening with Hoggle earlier, her tub was full every morning and warm, as per her preference, and the dining table was always set with food that seemed like it had just left the kitchen. The sponge moved around her, lathering her skin and then allowed her to submerge in the warm bathwater. When she came up, a bottle of aromatic oil poured a generous amount on her head, leaving her to wash her hair.

Once she was done, she rinsed her head and stepped out of the tub with the help of two towels on the floor that quickly rotated to prevent her wet feet from ever having to touch stone. She reached her room, a towel having draped itself across her shoulders and another winding itself around her hair and searched for clothes. A simple dress floated dreamily out of a chest on the floor and presented itself to her. After struggling with her undergarments, she slipped it over her head and headed over to the mirror to brush her still-wet hair. After an effortless spell, it was dry and weaving itself into a braid. She was ready.

The Castle Beyond the Goblin City was as much a part of the Labyrinth as anything, perhaps even more so, as it was in the center. As such, its halls, staircases, ceilings, rooms, windows and doors changed on a whim, doing their best to confuse all inhabitants. The only people who it seemed to work well for were Sarah and the Goblin King himself, who were both experts at navigating the Labyrinth as well, though, for Sarah, this was more because she knew exactly where to go (no trip was ever more difficult that walking over to her chest to get a cloak; it was as if she'd walked the path numerous times and this was just another repetition of routine) rather than His Highness, who just changed the castle's walls and stairs if he decided they were getting in the way.

After walking through a hole behind a tapestry, tripping over a stray chicken, and sliding down a banister without stairs, Sarah found herself in the dining hall, alone, and starving for some of the hotcakes and chilled orange juice that were sitting on the table serenely. As soon as she sat down, her chair moved in, a stack of cakes flew off of the serving platter and onto her plate, thick pecan syrup poured itself onto the stack and a teaspoon of butter plopped onto it all, several plump strawberries rolling on after it. Sarah grinned and began eating. Today was another day for lessons, but not anything worth paying attention to. The most interesting thing for today was that, instead of her usual etiquette instructor, it was to be the Goblin King who walked her through the intricacies of tea.

Sarah liked the Goblin King. With his tendencies to sing, pull her into dances and make her _experience_ lessons instead of just lecturing, he was her favorite teacher and really the only sensible person in the Labyrinth who wasn't exasperated by her every mistake, though he made sure to show appropriate disapproval at her intermittent outbursts at the Labyrinth's more bratty runners. She was positive that he _enjoyed_ punishing her for these, the favorite penalty being an inability to move more than a yard away from the offending runner, thereby suffering their existence until they either gave up or learned what the Labyrinth had to teach and permitted Sarah to guide them properly. Still, he was fun, intelligent, tolerant of her temper and the only human-looking friend she had here, which went a long way towards making her feel less lonely and not so much of an outcast, nevermind that everyone mysteriously recognized her on sight.

Finished, Sarah thanked anyone who was listening for the meal and walked over to a group of stones that only _looked_ like they weren't a hole in the floor and fell down, the ceiling of a room opening into one of the Goblin King's own tearooms, right above a not-so-rickety chair. She plopped into it, her skirt ruffling the hair of the only other occupant of the room.

The Goblin King smiled, "Sarah. Welcome. Did you enjoy your breakfast?"

She rolled her eyes, "It was delicious, like always." Her eyes turned to a pile of papers on the table in front of them, which rolled themselves up tightly as soon as she looked at them, a thick book shutting itself almost snootily, blowing dust and glitter into her face, "What's this?"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with," he said, waving an arm at a _large_ writing desk nearby, which opened and allowed all the papers, the book and one somehow tired-looking fountain pen to float over to its many shelves and drawers. "Alright. Today we will be going over dances."

Sarah perked up, but still asked, "I thought today's lesson was tea."

The Goblin King grimaced, "Yes, well, as entertaining as _that_ would be, my recent work has left me with an aching hand that would very much like to avoid subjection to any more utensils. So, instead, we dance."

Sarah grinned and stood, watching as the entire room seemed to melt from an average sitting room into a miniature ballroom. One wall was covered in a mirror and reflected their images, dark against the pale, unexciting wallpaper behind them. The Sarah in the mirror smiled at the change in curriculum and turned to her partner, putting one hand on his bicep and another in a leather-covered hand. His Majesty smiled at her and began counting – _one, two, three_ – and they tentatively took steps in small circles. Quickly, though, Sarah stopped looking at her feet, they dared to move closer, the king stopped counting, and a tune conveniently sprang up from the stone.

"You're a natural," breathed the blonde, and she smiled. In response, he picked up the pace and they drew close enough that she could taste his breath. Together, they stepped in time to the music that was quickly getting louder. He gave a smirk and she a small squeal and his hands fastened around her waist and he as good as threw her into the air before catching her in a spin and moving deliriously fast, enough that the skirt of her dress clapped against their legs when they spun.

Dreamily, Sarah noted that she could count his eyelashes. She'd been this close to him once before, when Hoggle had introduced to her the wonders of goblin ale. She vaguely remembered vomiting onto his boots. She might have vomited now, actually – her heart was climbing into her throat – but he kept a firm grip on her side to discourage her stomach from performing any flips, even when he tossed her into the air with magically-powered arms. It was dizzing; a spin of hers became too slow, her skirt caught under his boot and her nose bumped his chin painfully. The enchanting music halted. The moment was gone.

She stuttered out an apology and he murmured a negative.

"I think it's this room, actually," he said cheerfully, "Something about it makes the music bewitching; the dancing couldn't have been your fault." Somehow, Sarah was disappointed. That wasn't what she'd been apologizing for. "Oh, honestly!" he exclaimed with more than a hint of irritation upon seeing the clock above the mantle once the real room melted back into existence, "We've danced right through lunch."

Had they? Dimly, Sarah noted a soreness in her muscles and the unmistakable groans of her empty stomach. Right. No more dancing in _this_ room.

"And," the king continued, grasping her wrist and tugging her out of the sitting room, "We're about to be late for a meeting with the seamstress."

Sarah giggled at his annoyed expression, "If we're late after the fuss you made about the clothes arriving on time…" She trailed off, hoping the silence would speak for itself.

It did, and he fixed her with a glare, "She shouldn't have been so careless in the mending of those leggings. I was willing to forgive her error, if she would only show that she was willing to prove her worth. A deadline was the perfect way to do so. I was just giving her an opportunity."

Sarah grinned and opened her mouth to reply, but ended up biting down hard on her tongue instead when the floor swept out from underneath them and she landed painfully on the Goblin King's legs as they slid haphazardly down a frighteningly steep tunnel. She settled for gripping His Majesty's vest tightly and swallowing the saliva that was quickly gathering in her mouth in response to the bite, and thanking him by bumping her forehead into his cheekbone when he pushed her head out of the way of a plank of wood jutting out of a wall. Her face was really getting beat up today.

Eventually, they approached a dead end, which quickly yielded to them and pushed them into yet another tearoom with a scowling seamstress and three fidgety helpers. Each quickly morphed their expression into a semi-pleasant one upon the entrance of their sovereign and curtsied, asking as to their health, though not making any move to help them off the ground or dust them off. Sarah quickly moved off of the Goblin King's lap and helped him up, dusting off her skirt and straightening her hair, then recalled that she didn't like the seamstress' snobby attitude towards her and defiantly aborted all attempts at making herself look civilized.

To her right, the blonde king looked as if the three-and-a-half minutes of sliding hadn't even occurred. In fact, Sarah noted with pursed lips, he most certainly hadn't been wearing that dressy jacket half a second ago. He adopted the same 'I'm delighted to see you, you vermin' expression as the other four women and ordered them to assist Sarah in trying them on. Sarah huffed, remembering how much she hated every layer of clothing that was needed for each and began tugging the ties of her dress loose before she even got behind the screen, very much enjoying the seamstress' scandalized expression.

The next hour-or-so passed slowly, the King's approval necessary to the continued existence of each gown (and the social lives of the two-faced women – enough dislike of a seemingly insignificant feature merited Bogging, apparently), and though Sarah's approval was a given, as she was amazed at the idea of things being made for her at all, she insisted in heightening the anxiety of the assistants by putting everything on at a leisurely pace. They were mean, she was safe from getting Bogged – why not?

Eventually, though, they were down to the last one, a simple, tie-less garment that she could easily slip over her head and Sarah saw no reason to lengthen the torture any longer. She slipped it on and strode over to the full-length mirror there for her use, spinning and observing her reflection carefully. She could probably get away with just wearing this all day, the other dress was dirty from the slide down from her lesson, anyway.

The Goblin King seemed to share her thoughts, since he nodded to show that it was up to his esteemed standards and something along the lines of, "That dress will do nicely for dinner, dear Sarah, do not bother to change back." And then the words – _the Words – _echoed through the heads of each of the room's residents and the Goblin King flashed a smile, "Duty calls."

He disappeared in a poof of glitter and Sarah, choosing to not remain in a room with four women who may as well have been harpies, walked directly across the room, ignoring murmurs of disapproval at her behavior in front of the king, and pressed herself up against a somewhat stubborn section of the wall which soon yielded to her desire to be out of the room and allowed her through to the other side.

[-M-]

_The Words were not the best to use in emergency situations because the persons affected really would've just been swapping problems. The phrase 'out of the frying pan and into the fire' came to mind. Still, surveying the scene, Jareth decided that, in this case, the runner – for Sarah's brother was definitely not someone to trade his dreams for the lives of two women, and he'd said 'us', anyway – had made the right decision. Life as an occupant of the Labyrinth would have been infinitely less dangerous that life on Earth with a madman out for your blood._

"_Who the hell are you?" said the murderous man, scowling more than Jareth had thought possible on a human face._

"_Don't frown so much," he offered, "You'll get wrinkles."_

_There was a sharp intake of breath as the older woman – not human, he recognized, but it did not matter – connected the dots between his appearance and Toby's words. "Toby," she said shakily, "Toby, what've you done?" She turned around – she'd been shielding the children, bless her – to look the young man in the face._

"_What I had to do," the boy said determinedly, "He can save us."_

"_And what, may I ask, will I be saving you from?" he said airily. _What, may I ask, have you gotten yourself into now, and does your penchant for trouble run in the Williams family?

"_Him," Toby pointed at the man standing between them and what looked like a circle of some sort, "He's out to – he's gonna kill someone! A child, he's gonna kill a child!"_

"_You would have been safe!" hissed the man, "If you'd just kept your filthy little nose in your own business."_

_With a lazy wave of his hand, the man was on the ground, pinned by his own shadow. "Tolerance of bystanders is not required of me," Jareth said, fisting his hand and enjoying the look of fear on the human's face as the impossibly solid shadow's hold tightened on the man's wrists in response._

"_Don't kill him!" said the girl cowering behind her mother._

"_No," the woman disagreed, her glowing-green eyes hardening, "Do it. Please."_

_Jareth raised an eyebrow, "Just who do you think you are speaking to?"_

"_I – I am sorry," she faltered, "I did not mean it, Your Majesty. I thought that you – "_

"_I may yet take his life, for his audacity. Ignoring royalty when it deigns to step into your filthy hovel of a home," Jareth said to the terrified human, lip curling nastily for effect._

"_I apologize on Toby's behalf," the woman said, trying to win back her freedom again._

"_Oh, no apologies necessary," he said, smiling at the blonde boy, "What's said is said and I believe you know the rules, young Tobias. Sarah ought to have mentioned them often enough." Just like that, they were no longer in the musty little garage, but were instead standing on a hill, observing as the sun was readying itself to sink below the horizon, and admiring the intimidating walls of the Labyrinth. "I may be able to pull some strings for you, though," he said with a grin, "After all, three heads are better than one."_

_The woman shook her head desperately, long, brown ringlets shaking in denial, "No, Your Majesty, he didn't mean it – it was a mistake – "_

"_Calm yourself, woman!" he said with much irritation, "The Labyrinth is not impossible to solve. Especially if one has a guide," he said, winking at Toby, who grinned, "And, actually, you are in luck. Surely someone as experienced as you would have taken the lessons of the Labyrinth to heart by now? If so, then your guide will be able to escort you to your freedom without a problem." He left her to absorb that and turned to Toby._

"_Tobias," he said seriously, putting his hands on the twelve-year-old's shoulders, "You will meet someone in this Labyrinth who needs your help. As always, seeing is not enough, and though she understands this, you may not. For you, this will be the real test. Do your best not to fail it." This would be Sarah's chance to regain her memory, and her brother would help her do it. To his relief, the boy looked like he was concentrating on committing the words to memory. He flashed a grin at the lot._

"_Good luck," he said, and faded from view._


	8. Chapter 8

The force of the pull almost made Sarah fall over. She experienced it rarely, because of how few runners ever understood the lessons that the Labyrinth had to teach, but she had, once or twice, and it was like knowing she'd left a candle too close to a curtain; anxiety, fretfulness, the urge to _do_ something would rise up inside her. Now, she was nearly blind with her panic to get to the runner.

'_Who is it? Have they run the Labyrinth before?' _she thought, hopping a bit as she nearly tripped on her way down a staircase that magically appeared before her. She huffed a wish for the staircase to become a slide, much to her surprise that it actually chose to listen and she slid down, sideways, and even _up_ in the Labyrinth's haste for her to get to the runner. She cursed when her knee rubbed hard against the smooth stone she was moving against, exposed by the dress' skirt coming up while she nearly _flew_ out of the room, out of the Castle, out of the City and then under the moat of garbage, the forest, the well-kept maze of bushes and then to the place with the changing stone walls.

She slowed and came to a stop, right in front of several neat little steps that led up to the actual Labyrinth. Her heart slowed and she recognized the shaky-ness in her arms and legs as regular adrenaline and not the anxiety that showed up when she was away from a runner who didn't need the Labyrinth to learn. So they were close, whoever they were. She lifted her skirt and climbed up to the warren of stone paths, keeping quiet in case this was someone who didn't take well to surprise.

Interestingly enough, there was still a wall between her and the runner, and it seemed they'd already found two companions. They were talking, not really caring if they were heard, and all three were looking around for the twin doors that would lead to – no, she couldn't have heard right, they weren't actually looking to fall _into_ an oubliette, that would be – oh, they'd hushed up!

"Which way?"

"That way looks like it's about to fall apart at any moment, let's go this way!"

"I dunno… You can't take anything for granted here…" _'Good boy,'_ thought Sarah. Nice to know that _someone _understood it.

"Oh, _come on!_ Will you _look_ at that?! It'll collapse on us as soon as we take two steps in. I don't care if you're our 'guide', you'll find another way if this isn't where we were supposed to go. Come on."

Footsteps, they'd chosen a direction… Sarah looked ahead and finally noticed that the path that side of the wall was on was connected to hers by an opening not three meters in front of her. She straightened her dress and hair to look a bit more presentable for the runner –

– and paused.

The company had turned the corner and were all standing behind the stock-still leader, a curly-haired, blonde boy who was maybe thirteen and all three were staring at her. She smiled, preparing to relieve them of their worries about making it in time –

"_Sarah?"_ the blonde boy gasped out.

She paused again. A new sensation, a kind of wrongness, a hazy-ness, was settling all around this boy, and she was having the oddest feeling, like she should recognize him, but she couldn't place his face at all – "Do I know you?"

"Sarah?" he said again, "Is it you? Where've you been? Terry said you were still on Harena – " he moved forward, smiling bemusedly, arms spread out like he wanted to give her the tightest hug (and she really wanted to hug him back, for some reason), but the woman behind him stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Remember where we are, Toby," she reminded him, glaring at her over his head, "This could just be an illusion."

Sarah didn't know quite why, since people had assumed that about her before, but that offended her right then and she drew herself up to the tallest she could be while wearing heel-less shoes. "I am the Lady of the Labyrinth, here to guide you to the Castle Beyond the Goblin City," she hesitated, her eyes coming to rest on the boy, "And my name is Sarah."

The boy kept looking at her warily but with a hope and said, "Don't you remember me? I'm Toby. Your brother. You called me, well, it must've been three weeks ago for you and said that you might not call for a while."

She frowned, "I have been here for the last year and a half, fulfilling my duty as the Labyrinth's only guide. Now, are you going to let me lead you, or not? I'm afraid you don't have a choice about me staying with you – the Labyrinth likes me to be around those who already understand what it has to teach."

The boy nodded and she did the same, turning around and heading back the way she'd come (the steps had disappeared, likely only having existed for the short amount of time she'd been on them) and walked briskly in the direction she knew the doorway to the bush-maze would be. Behind her, the trio jogged to catch up. She, in turn, slowed a little.

"So," she ventured, "Why are you here? You obviously know everything there is to learn here. I wouldn't be here if you didn't. Who'd you wish away?"

"Um, us. The three of us. We were in a tight spot and needed a way to get out. Fast."

"So you wished yourselves away to the goblins?" Sarah raised an eyebrow at the boy, who was still looking at her like she was a talking quiche. "No, no, not the question I should be asking – His Majesty let you stay together?" she said, hoping her incredulous tone spoke for itself.

The boy nodded, "He said he'd pull some strings for us."

"Woah. You must be related to him or something. The Goblin King hates the runners, usually." She kept walking, now moving at a less impersonal pace and taking the time to occasionally look back at the two women – well, one woman and one girl, both looking like they could be family, and neither looking human – who were following the conversation attentively.

An odd expression crossed the young man's face, "Not all runners. Haven't you ever heard of Sarah Williams? The Champion of the Labyrinth?"

Sarah raised an eyebrow. This kid was _weird._ "The Labyrinth's never had a champion. It isn't unsolvable, you just have to know – things. Like not to take anything for granted," she said, referring to his earlier quote and nodding in a way that she hoped conveyed that she thought he was great for knowing. "If you do, then it's my job to guide you. I'm actually pretty new, though. The first guide ever."

He was still looking at her strangely, "When did you get here? To the Labyrinth?"

She thought about it, "About a year and a half ago. My friend Hoggle found me and brought me to the Goblin King. When it became apparent I couldn't get lost here, and that I had the urge to be near the runner the more they learned about the Labyrinth, His Majesty named me guide," she smiled, "That's why I'm with you." She moved to walk through the wall, but instead ran into it. _"Owe…"_ she rubbed her forehead furiously and glared at the wall.

"Yeah. You're Sarah." Toby said, his dubious expression mirroring that of the grown woman behind him.

She shot him a glare and knocked angrily on the wall. It giggled in response.

"Hey! We need to go that way!"

"No gettin' through unless a riddle solves you!" It chortled.

Sarah tapped her foot, "We're meant to go on that way. We need to get to the castle."

"Labyrinth's Lady you may be, but you've no power over me!" It cackled madly, as if it had just said the most hilarious joke ever. Behind her, she heard Toby suppress a snicker.

She rounded on him, "What's so funny?"

"Well – you said that. When you defeated the Goblin King," he sobered, "Why can't you remember?"

She gaped at him, "Are you high?"

He paused, "Do they have marijuana in the Underground?"

"Mari-what?" What was he talking about? And why did he feel that _now _was a good time to talk nonsense?

He grinned triumphantly, "See? You just asked me if I was high. If they don't have anything to get high off in the Underground, where did you get that phrase from?"

"I didn't ask you if you were high. Why would I? You've got both feet planted on the ground," she gestured at them to prove her point. "Now, are you going to solve the riddle or not? _You're _the runner."

"Runner, Lady, girl or woman, everyone's some solvin' doin'!" The wall said firmly.

"So everyone has to solve a riddle to get through?" asked the younger girl.

It wasn't possible for a wall to nod, but the silence seemed filled with it somehow. Both the girl and the woman who'd arrived with Toby smiled dangerously, looking very eager for their turns.

Toby moaned; Sarah looked at him questioningly. "You know how to catch a selkie?" He asked in response.

"Riddles. What – _oh."_ She looked between the two women, now clearly seeing the signs. Both the luminous eyes and jagged teeth ought to have been a giveaway.

The wall all-of-a-sudden seemed nervous and cleared its nonexistent throat before saying somewhat nervously, "M-Maybe ladies walk through freely – wished-away no need solve, _really."_

Toby gave a self-satisfied smirk that Sarah mirrored. It was nice to see the wall worried about something, as stupidly optimistic as it tended to be. A selkie's reaction to a muddled-up riddle was nothing to take lightly, after all. She doubted even a wall could escape unharmed. The two women, however, looked a bit put-out, and walked through the now-intangible wall with disappointed expressions.

Sarah grinned, "And you have to let _him_ through, too, don't you?" she asked, gesturing towards Toby, "If you're letting the wished-away go on without solving anything. _He's_ a wished-away, too. You should be able to feel it." There was an air of frustrated embarrassment; some patches of bricks on the wall turned red. Sarah smirked and pushed Toby in after the girl and her mother. Then she stepped back to look at the wall, "Alright, what's my riddle?"

"Why bother asking Lady riddle? Compared to doors, wall's second fiddle. And if Lady cannot say, she use Labyrinth to get her way. Just go through and follow runner. Today's already such a bummer – what with selkies threatening wall. Why bother living here at all?" The wall rhymed dejectedly.

Sarah stared. "Um. Sorry? But thanks for letting me through."

"Whatever."

[-M-]

They made it to the castle with nearly two hours left over, though it hadn't been painless. After the wall proved itself full of angst at the unfairness of it all, the Labyrinth apparently decided that since they weren't going to play by the rules, then it would make everything 'easy' for them anyway. 'Easy' equaled no turns, no hidden doors, no riddles, but hours and hours of walking and much annoyance with each other.

The runner, Toby, spent the entire time telling her the story of his sister, a girl who shared her name, and how she'd wished him away, run the Labyrinth, and returned home longing for more of the magic world. She'd searched Earth for any trace of magic, eventually finding a group of humans for hire and joining them, then disappearing off the face of the planet half a year ago, six months after she'd first departed for Havana in search of an enchanted bracelet. And he was adamant about _her_ being that Sarah.

As nice as the story was, and as much as she wanted for the boy to be reunited with his sister, she vehemently denied being such. For one, she argued, she'd never be so stupid as to wish a child away. For another, she obviously wasn't human – to prove it, she lifted them all off the ground and kept them floating towards the castle until it got too much for her and they had to continue on foot. Thirdly, she had absolutely no memory of him, or of any of the things he described. Granted, she had no memory of her life at all before appearing here a year and a half ago, but she was pretty sure she'd remember something like what the kid was saying if someone had spelled it out for her like that.

"But your name! And the fact that everyone knows you!" He'd argued.

"How many girls do you know who are named Sarah? It's not an uncommon name, especially on Earth, which is where the Goblin King thinks I'm from," she replied, quite a bit irritated by then, "And so what? I'm not human, I must've been here before. I could've grown up here, even. Just because I don't remember it doesn't mean the first kid who's got a whole life story planned out for me is my brother," she said.

He'd gaped at her then, with this awful betrayed look on his face and she had to smother the urge to give him a hug. That was encouragement he didn't need, especially if he was being sent straight back to Earth without her once he'd run.

"Look!" Came an excited shout from behind them, and Sarah swallowed the curse that nearly came out when a pointing finger caught on her supposedly untangling hair.

They looked, and saw the moat of garbage looming up in front of them. For a junkyard, it didn't really smell so awful. It wasn't trash, really, more like scraps and broken furniture. His Majesty had taken her here when she was learning how to fly, smiling cruelly when she protested. The bits and pieces of sharp metal, and jab-y legs of chairs, and various innocent citizens of the yard, who were indistinguishable from their surroundings, would provide incentive not to fall, the Goblin King had assured her with a sadistic grin. It was either this or the Bog of Stench, he liked to remind her, though the smell might distract her and _that_ wouldn't be good. Later, Sarah compared the jitters from her flight lesson to the embarrassment and frustration others endured in a room lined with mattresses especially for those learning to fly, and grudgingly admitted to herself that the Goblin King's way was better, as it _had_ sped up the learning process and allowed her to study away from too many eyes.

Pushing the memories of her favorite teacher aside, Sarah continued forward, picking up the pace, eager to dump the runner and the wished-away on him and spend some time in the library. She'd finished a book last night and though she hadn't had any time to find a new one, she was excited at the prospect of doing so. The books in the vast collection weren't only nonfiction, though most were, and a lot of those used for her lessons came from the circular room. One of her professors, in particular, was awfully disorganized and needed her help to find the book that contained the facts for the next few weeks' lesson plans nearly every month. She liked to waste time leafing through books she knew they wouldn't use while he was a few shelves away, drinking in the elaborate inking of letters and nearly unintelligible words. The writers of the age liked replacing 'i's with 'y's, and adding silent 'e's to nearly every word.

"We're almost there, so let's hurry up," she called to the group, and they followed eagerly, nervous at how much time had passed, the older woman, especially.

They made their way to the gate, which the guard had left open that day on orders, grumbling about overly lax security and what would they do if they were invaded when their wall had a whole that led straight to the King's home? Sarah thanked him and he hacked, executing a perfect shot into a spittoon that was too close to Sarah for her liking. She wrinkled her nose in distaste, but smiled, wanting to roll her eyes when Toby yelled "Cool!" and complimented the goblin on his aim. The armored sentry blushed and shooed them inside, calling after her to look out for the lad.

There was no extra challenge today, though they'd taken to setting dogs loose on the runners when they got into the small space between the outer and inner gates as of late. Recently, Sarah had heard from her professor, the large robot that blocked the way in had been destroyed during a run and they could not replace it as the original builder had died ten-or-so years before that. Now, a family of canine breeders were working on duplicating Cerberus to try and frighten the runners. All the magic they used had so far only created two-headed dogs, and despite the not-so-warm reception by the runners, the breeders insisted it wasn't good enough.

The Goblin City was bustling in exactly the right way, with stalls set up in front of houses for the inhabitants to sell homemade wares, and lots of children, both goblin and other, underfoot. Toby and his companions looked stunned at the sheer liveliness of the town, looking this way and that as they were called out to – "Try this cake, m'lady, and you'll never use human flour again!" – "A pretty necklace for a pretty young miss?" – "Young sir! Surely you require a dagger to defend your damsels?" – and pausing involuntarily to watch a slender she-goblin's mastery of the lute, plus her cohort's juggling skills. Sarah received much attention as well, mostly from the magical homes, which she visited often for supplies and advice, but also from one or two friendly acquaintances in the flower shop and two grocers.

Eventually, they made it up to the castle and got in without a fight, finding the Goblin King in his throne room, surrounded by as much of his army as could fit into the room, and a few chickens. He smiled upon seeing them, eyeing her expectantly. She raised an eyebrow, expression slowly shifting into something unsure.

He shook his head to dispel it and smiled again, this time at her, "You did wonderfully, Sarah. If you would leave us alone for a time; I have something I need to discuss with young Tobias." Sarah nodded and left the room. The two women who'd been wished away lingered and when they weren't sent away as well, stayed behind to listen.

The Labyrinth's Lady traveled at a leisurely pace towards the library, the castle allowing her to stay on a mundane route rather than walking through walls and searching for trapdoors among the stones. Sarah didn't really think of herself as someone who liked to hoard the Goblin King's time, especially since she was one of the only ones to do so on non-business terms, and she certainly didn't want to be thought of by others as someone who did, but she was a bit miffed that she didn't get to overhear whatever it was that he and Toby were talking about, especially after the boy went on and on about her being related to him.

Shaking her head to get rid of the petulance, Sarah found two large, grand doors, the choice of wood today being glossy and dark, with a red tint in the abundant light. A light touch on the handles was all it took; they swung open to let her in and she had to take a moment to bask in the sight of her favorite place in the castle.

Today's choice of appearance was grand, with shiny marble, lined with gold making up the floor. Tall, majestic shelves with wood to match the doors housed the various tomes, the books floating around underneath the high, domed ceiling and shelving themselves according to topic for some semblance of organization. A small sitting area had sprung up near a tiny fireplace, two ritzy armchairs adjacent to each other across a table where a pot of peppermint tea was already pouring itself for her, looking very much like a place she'd like to curl up and sleep in. The smells of new parchment and tight leather replaced the dusty, stuffy smell from the last time she'd been in, and the room was a great deal brighter than then, too, what with both windows wide open and the sunlight streaming in to leave squares on the floor.

Sarah gave an enchanted sigh and accepted the tea that had zoomed over to her on a dainty plate, sipping it dreamily as she perused the fiction shelves for new entertainment. She left her teacup floating around behind her as she ran her fingers over colorful leather spines, both plump and thin, pulpy and philosophical. She hummed softly to herself; really, there was little that was better than enjoying the novelty of being in an enormous, _beautiful_ library alone.

She was about to reach for a thick, violet hardback, her eyes already creasing with an eager smile – yes, she _loved_ to read – when, not seven books away from her right arm, another book moved forward, its desire to be chosen obvious. Sarah paused, abandoning the purple volume and looked at the book with a quirked brow. She'd been hoping for something a little more substantial. The tome was small, thin, bound in red leather and when she picked it up she estimated that its size made it bendy, as well. Slightly obnoxious gold lettering on the front proclaimed the title _Labyrinth._ Sarah had read enough books about Labyrinthine history for the title alone to turn her off. Still, she complied with the book's wishes and opened up to the first page, enjoying the look of the slender, slanted writing.

And then she began reading. The images, the characters, the places came alive in her head, and she ran her fingers over the words as she read, her mouth whispering them as she went.

She remembered it all.

The slapping sensation of the pouring rain on her face as she ran home, Merlin running behind her; the terror that bubbled up in her throat like a scream when the Goblin King appeared; the relief and the tightness in her chest that was almost like love when she finally saw Toby – and he _was_ her brother, he was her sarcastic, cynical, _wonderful_ brother and she'd _forgotten_ him! – the smugness when she saw goblins taking Karen's keys off the counter after That Night; the anxiety when she sat down to tell her parents she wasn't going to college; the surprise at _finally_ having found a way to connect with the magical world; the heaviness in her chest when telling the story of her wishing Toby away to her family; the warmth of being in the Goblin King's arms and knowing he cared enough to warn her about whatever happened on Harena; the hot sun on her head when Tasha opened the door, the dizziness, the delirium…

She finally looked up from the last page, the two words – _The End_ – looking very final and a little scary, only to notice that Toby – her _brother! Toby!_ – was standing two feet away, looking at her quietly as she had a panic attack. She met his eyes, mouth dry, and moved to fling her arms around him, crying out apologies and 'I should have been more careful! That door was a trap!' and 'Dear God, what kind of trouble were you in to wish yourself away?' and more apologies.

He took it calmly, owning up to the role of brother marvelously, hugging her back and calling her stupid for thinking she needed to apologize, and she shakily smiled at him before gesturing to the two armchairs by the flickering fire and asking him if he wanted to tell her about life. He nodded and smiled, looking far too grown up and reassuring for someone who was still shorter than her, and sat down to tell her all about Lila and a clock.

…

…

A/N: If I don't explain the whole thing with Lila's father in the next chapter, you can throw tomatoes at me.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Almost wanted to test all of you tomato-wielders.

…

…

About two minutes in, the sun finally set and the room began showing signs of wanting them to leave so it could prepare for tomorrow's new look. The fire died, the tea all-of-a-sudden got cold, and their chairs somehow became scratchy and uncomfortable. Sarah took the hint and led Toby through a wall that the castle had kindly allowed to lead directly into her room. They sat down on the bed and Toby began.

"Lila's mom is a selkie. We were looking for her skin." He checked with Sarah for comprehension before continuing, "What we found was this house. We staked it out a few times, wrote down the magical protections around it, and so on. It was really simple – so long as you had the key, you would enter through the front door like a normal person. You just couldn't use any magic otherwise the, like, five hundred different talismans around the place would tip off her dad.

"Lila had the key. We went in and it was, like, a serial killer's place! There was _nothing_ in there. We checked all over.

"And then we went into the garage."

Toby paused, trying hard to convey the creepiness, Sarah could tell. "There was this circle, out of chalk on the ground, and it was written all over in Latin, with small drawings. In the center was a clock."

"The ritual for eternal youth," Sarah said, then added, "It's different than immortality. Immortality requires life force, if you don't already have your own. Lots and lots of magic and belief and power. Eternal youth is vain and doesn't need anything so complicated. What was he going to use?"

"The blood of a child," Toby said darkly. "I talked to Lila about it and her mom overheard us. We don't really get it, but the curse or whatever didn't extend to this and she was freaking out about what he was going to do. We told her we'd been looking for the skin and that we wanted to mess up the circle now to prevent him from hurting a baby. She wasn't about to let us go alone, she said, and she took some magic things and went with us.

"We were about two feet from the door when it happened.

"Lila's mom heard him climb out of the downstairs bathroom window. We ran into the garage and I was trying to get us to move the clock to the door, except Mrs. Riordan said we shouldn't touch the circle. Then _he_ came. He had a gun."

Sarah breathed in sharply and couldn't help gripping Toby's shoulders and arms, just restraining herself from running her hands all over his chest, to check for bullet wounds.

"He started ranting about how he knew someone had gotten in the first time because of the magic signature from the hat and how he would've just left us alone if we hadn't come back. Lila's mom had brought some stuff and he said he recognized the magic signature on that and knew it was us. He said he wouldn't kill us, just hurt us enough that we couldn't run away until he found a spell or something that could keep us from telling, so I said the Words."

Sarah breathed a sigh of relief, "Good job. You're much, _much_ safer here. You always will be." She ran her fingers through his hair, aware of just how comfortable with the Labyrinth and its king she'd gotten while being here, if she could extend invitations like that. "So…what happened then?"

"Jareth came and had us run the Labyrinth before he went back and…killed Mr. Riordan."

Sarah wasn't the least bit sorry. "And then you made your way to the maze and started looking for the two doors that led down to the oubliette, the false alarms and so on."

"Yeah. I was gonna copy you," he said.

Sarah raised an eyebrow, a wry smile twisting her mouth, "You know that that wasn't an actual path, right? In the forest of the Fireys, I had to climb a wall and needed Hoggle and a rope to help me. Then I fell through a trapdoor."

Toby blushed, "I never said it was perfect. But it was a plan, right?"

"Yeah," Sarah said, stretching out on the bed, "The Labyrinth hates those."

Toby chuckled and lay down on top of Sarah crosswise, so that only their torsos were touching. "So, when are you coming back home?" She watched him fiddle with a loose string from her blanket.

Sarah frowned, looking up at the heavy cutains of her four-poster bed's top. "Not yet. I have an assignment to finish. Now that my memory's back, I think His Highness can send me back to my body."

"You can call him Jareth, you know," Toby said, sitting up. "We're, like, his only non-business friends. He's not gonna care if we're not formal. He might even like it."

Sarah looked at him, "You think?"

"Sure. I called him Jareth back there," he waved to signify when he was discussing stuff in the Goblin King's throne room, "He smiled a little."

"Alright, then. I'll ask him," Sarah said, then sat up herself and pointed to the small archway that had grown a door since that morning. "Bathroom's through there. Wash, then I will. We can share the bed, it's big enough."

Toby nodded, then smiled. Sarah 'oof'-ed in surprise when Toby jumped on her, hugging her tightly. Sarah hugged him back, idly considering Toby's story. That kind of action was more dangerous than some assignments. And at twelve…he had the makings of a spectacular human-for-hire, if he didn't get himself killed first. She smiled, snuggling into his ticklish blonde hair. She'd just gotten her brother back. Now wasn't the time to be thinking about sending him off to other worlds.

[-M-]

Sarah chewed thoughtfully on a sausage, eyeing the people around her while she ate. The table was excessively long today, with the Goblin King on one side and Toby on the other. She sat peacefully near her brother while the two wished-away both perched anxiously on chairs on the King's right-hand side, one a bit more calm than the other, and both only tentatively eating their scrambled eggs. Currently, they were a bit more frantic, since the Goblin King's attention was almost exclusively on them. She had half a mind to tell them to calm down, but it was all-too-obvious that he was enjoying their discomfort, and some part of her was laughing a little bit, too.

"Where will you go now that your husband is dead?"

Lila's mother, who had introduced herself as Eva, looked distinctly worried about giving the King of the Goblins information about her whereabouts, despite Toby's comfort around the man, and shifted a little before answering, "We'll be sticking around and sorting out his will. I'll be looking at the information to make a list of places where he's been, houses he owns, and so on. Lila and I believe he may have left my skin in Europe after we met there, so that's where we'll start."

The Goblin King smiled pleasantly, "You can be assured that you'll be safe from harm. My subjects are very keen on Lila. One in particular: Meep, a young one that's chosen to stay with the Williams family," his eyes glittered as he looked over at the two Williamses present, "From what I hear, he managed to find a guard last night." Eva looked far more relaxed at this information, perhaps finally taking into account Sarah and Toby's relationship with the King and their influence. The Goblin King turned to Sarah, "So, why don't you give your brother and these lovely ladies a tour, and I will begin putting together a few circles for your departure. Sarah's arrival was complicated, to say the least." He gave her a faux-ly exasperated expression. Sarah stuck out her tongue.

Toby took this as his excuse and thanked the room for the food (which Sarah had told him to do before breakfast, to be polite), much to the Goblin King's pleasure, then stood. The women took that as the cue to finish, Lila stuffing half a pancake in her mouth and blushing a bit when His Majesty laughed, and did the same. The company laughed when Toby opened the main door and nearly walked into a solid brick wall.

"Maybe you should lead," he turned to Sarah.

She grinned, _feeling_ her appearance brighten at the complement, and promptly walked towards the window closest to the door and jumped out. She found herself in a hallway, and waited patiently for the rest to get over their fears of heights, Lila in particular. They followed, eventually, and Sarah began leading them through the castle, pointing out several nicer rooms or ones that she liked in particular and introducing them to anyone who came along.

Around two-o'-clock, after a hearty lunch of soup and fresh-baked bread in a place at the City, they walked slowly back to the Castle to see if their way home was ready for them. To their surprise, it had been ready for quite some time, and the King had only put off telling them to allow them to get more comfortable with his kingdom. Lila and her mother returned first, the latter giving Toby a kiss on the cheek and a deep thanks to the Goblin King for ridding her of her husband. Then Toby left, giving Sarah a tight hug and promising to bring their parents news that she was okay and adding that he'd tell them that Jareth had been looking after her.

And then it was just the Goblin King and Sarah. She fidgeted.

He gave a fond smile, "You will be missed. I will send messengers to give your friends your goodbyes."

She nodded and gave him a similar smile in turn, "I wanted to say thank you. For taking me in and teaching me things. And sending me home now that I have my memory back."

He nodded, "It was a pleasure having you as a student."

"Thanks," Sarah powered through, "I want you to know that I really consider you a friend and I wanted to ask you if it would be okay to call you Jareth. If it isn't, that's fine, though," she added quickly.

He smiled, looking about as happy as Toby had suggested, "I'd like that. Friends are something I do not have in abundance," he paused, "However, I must request that you retain the use of my title in formal. To do otherwise would be…"

"Uncouth?" Sarah offered, ending his search for a word. She nodded amicably, "Yeah, I figured. Like how you used to refer to me as 'Lady' in front of guests, right?" He nodded. She smiled and, feeling a bit daring, stepped forward to give him a hug. He responded similarly, feeling like he was unused to the action and just following her lead.

He stepped back and smiled down at her, "Precious thing," and kissed her forehead, eliciting a blush from her. He kindly acted like he hadn't noticed and motioned to the circle that had been set up for her reunion with Harena. She stepped in, finding the center quickly and gave him a nervous wave as the writing on the floor began to glow.

White bled into her vision and the room was gone.

[-M-]

Pain and _ow._

"Motherfucker!" Sarah spat, before quickly stilling and listening for movement. It was probably not a good idea to make noise when you were captured. On the other hand, thought Sarah as she turned to the right and came face to face with a corpse, screaming was sounding _really_ good right now.

Trying to swallow the hysteria so she wouldn't be caught, she pushed all the dead limbs away from her and jumped up, feeling with her feet for an unoccupied floor space. The room stank like rot and disease. She could feel her clothes were looser than they'd been before, as well, and guessed that two weeks were enough to do some damage to her newly-recovered body, though how she hadn't died from dehydration yet, she had no clue. She made a fist and focused on producing a light, then opened it and released a shining orb into the space.

Holy fucking God – _dead people!_ She was right not to scream; some of them were missing limbs and other body parts that she was sure she needed. She looked around for her pack and dragged it out from under a thankfully whole woman, then slung it over her shoulder. Now was not the time to be squeamish.

She directed the orb around the room, finally locating a familiar head of blonde hair on top of a familiar redheaded one. She walked over and shook Isaac and Tasha by the shoulders, almost crying when there was no response. She checked Isaacs pulse – there. He was still alive. Barely.

Getting a thought, Sarah pulled out a mirror and stared at herself. Still the same oily-faced, brown-haired, sunburnt girl she'd been before the trapdoor. The Labyrinth must've been a dream, since her fairytale appearance was gone, but – she looked at the flying orb – obviously, she'd learned a thing or two. With a gesture that was almost second-nature at this point, she conjured a crystal and, focusing, looked into Isaac's dreams.

Isaac looked a good deal happier here, most likely because of the very beautiful, very _pregnant_ Tasha at his side. They were setting a table together in the apartment in Oregon, putting a steaming heap of spaghetti and thick, smooth marinara sauce down on a new, large table in the small space that was meant to be a dining room but was never used by the team as such. Sarah watched as they let in a version of herself and Angie, who did not live there anymore, and they went around hugging the couple, commenting on Tasha's glowing appearance and the mouth-watering Italian on the feast. Angie jokingly popped the cork on a non-alcoholic grape cocktail, and Sarah produced the dessert for that night – a pumpkin pie, purchased last-minute at a bakery two blocks away. It was Thanksgiving.

Sarah forced herself not to get caught up in the dream and altered the dream 'Sarah', the smiling, toasting version of herself bringing up the mission that they were supposed to be on right now: "Do you remember that time on Harena? When we were all caught in a trap?" That was all it took; the dream shattered and Sarah had to withdraw quickly from her roommate's subconscious, to face his pallid face as he looked around. Near him, Tasha was stirring as well. Unusual, and likely meaning they'd been sharing the dream. _Well, _then.

"What - ?" Isaac asked, voice cracking.

"We should've checked the door for traps. Can you move?" she asked them.

They nodded, sluggishly getting up and surveying the room, Tasha looking a little less shaken than Isaac, but disturbed, nonetheless. The two pulled flashlights out of their packs, and looked for Angie silently, until Tasha finally spotted her, barely breathing, nearly on the other side of the room. Again, Sarah called on a crystal, trying not to focus on the calculating stares from Isaac and Tasha, and pulled Angie out of her romantic life in Paris. She had to cover the girl's mouth to stifle her scream upon seeing the room's other 'occupants'.

"Now we need to get out of here," Isaac said, quickly scanning the items in his bag and tossing anything past its 'use-by' date. It looked like their chocolate bars, nuts, raisins and crackers had survived, though, and a small lift in spirits could be felt at having real sustenance.

Tasha surveyed the room, quickly locating a large, heavy door and they moved towards it as one, Angie using a nifty spyglass of hers to check the hall on the other side before Isaac fiddled with the lock and got them out of the tomb. The blonde girl kept looking through the small telescope and took the lead, jogging fast until they found a set of stairs and started climbing, turning a corner once. Upon reaching the second level, they found themselves in a short, dark hallway.

"There are traps up ahead," Angie said, panting heavily, telescope still jammed against her eye.

"We can't – deal with those right now," Tasha gasped.

Sarah, still breathing heavily, walked over to the narrow set of stairs and pulled out a glass of sand, smashing it against the floor and erecting a shimmering purple shield, then turned around to see Tasha copying her with the rest of the hallway. Finally sure of safety, they collapsed against the walls, Angie beginning to sob into her hand and Isaac and Tasha staring at each other solemnly. Sarah simply grabbed her never-ending supply of water and took a several large gulps, then ripped open a packet of crackers and began munching on them madly. She was going to need the energy.

…

…

A/N: I'm worried that they weren't panic-y enough in the tomb. Review and tell me what you think, hm?


	10. Chapter 10

After a lunch of crackers, nuts and chocolate, the four people settled down to discuss how they were going to continue onwards.

"I think we all agree that we're not going to ditch the mission," Isaac said, checking with the girls for nods before continuing, "Sarah's the fittest right now, so we'll continue with her in the lead, Angie second, Tasha and then me."

Angie lifted her magic spyglass to her eye again, "The next bit is just the floor coming out from under us. There's probably a pit with spikes or something underneath."

Sarah concentrated, trying to lift everyone off the ground. The four made noises of surprise when they lifted into the air. She looked at them, "I can keep this up for a few minutes. Definitely long enough to get past the first trap."

Angie smiled, "Great. After that, there's nothing until the end of the hallway. I can't see beyond that, so we'll have to deal with it then."

With a murmur of assent, Tasha scattered the sand on the ground with her foot, disabling the shield and Sarah lifted them into the air, moving them forward until Angie said it was safe to put them down. They continued walking, whispering quietly until they reached a narrow set of steps that nearly went straight upwards. Isaac tentatively went first this time, stepping carefully in case the stairs were faulty, then ascended up to a small door. He slid it aside quietly, then poked his head up through the opening, quickly retracting it after a look around and closing the door.

"It's another one of those rooms."

"More bodies?" Angie squeaked.

Isaac nodded.

Tasha looked around critically, sliding her hands all over the walls and feeling for a lever or button to push. There were none. "We have to keep going, then," she said, "There's going to be a door in there somewhere."

The blonde shook his head, "I didn't see one when I looked around."

"Maybe you were distracted by all the dead people," Sarah suggested, "It happens."

He gave her a look, but climbed back up, pushing the small, wooden sliding door aside and stepping through, giving a hand to the rest of them when they climbed after him.

Sarah wrinkled her nose at the smell, and trained her eyes on the room, forming another orb of light to help her look and sending it to the middle of the ceiling. They spread out, searching in the small clearings between piles where there was still room to walk to the walls. Sarah inched around a fairly tall one, looking to search the wall near a particularly large space and managed to trip on a limb, landing right across the valley, limbs splayed everywhere.

She felt the footsteps through the floor: intimidating, slow vibrations far too heavy to be human.

She barely had time to whisper-shout "Play dead!" at the other three before the wall she'd been wanting to look at slid aside, and the presence of something enormous and imposing filled the room. Ugly, raspy breathing could be heard as the creature moved inside, taking care to step on Sarah's back while he did so – she did her best to make herself limp, though five dirty claws pressed into her ribs and made her want to curl up – and walked forward, raspy breathing increasing with agitation as it looked at the shining ball of light hovering by the ceiling.

It emitted an angry sound and lumbered over to the trapdoor. Through slitted eyes, Sarah could see four black, twisted spines sticking out of its back. Once it saw the trapdoor that they'd left open, it started shrieking, and jumped through. They waited until they couldn't hear it anymore before standing up, shaking, and slipping through the door it had left open.

[-M-]

"So that was the guard," Sarah breathed as they moved through the halls, now jogging, fueled by a desire to _never_ see something like that again.

"One of them," Tasha breathed, clutching her side, "There're supposed to be two."

"_Two?"_ Angie gasped, "Because one is just not enough?"

"It might get lonely," Isaac drawled.

"I'm more worried about whether it's smart enough to know what side that shield was made on," Tasha replied, "If it can tell this was the side - !"

_Che-RAAAWR!_

Sarah tripped, hitting her nose against the stone painfully, then scrambling to get to her feet and run again. The group sprinted down the hallway, moving seamlessly to the right when Angie, telescope still jammed against her eye, told them to do so.

"Tasha?" the blonde girl groaned, "Screw you." She swerved right, jumping over a trip wire.

The redhead huffed, "It's because there wasn't any wood around. I didn't have anything to knock on."

They continued running until they came to a fork. Angie looked back and forth frantically, "They have the same number of traps!"

"Pick a direction!" Isaac wheezed.

The girl frowned, "Eenie, meenie,"

"_Left!"_ Isaac shouted, grabbing the blonde and hurling her in front of him, then waving at the rest of them to follow.

Sarah was working off of nothing but Angie's voice. Move to the left – she clung to that wall. Jump – she jumped. Crawl – she got on her knees and moved as fast as the floor's interference would allow. After a series of traps nearly every two seconds, they were able to just run for about fifteen minutes down a steadily inclining hall. They came to a dead end.

"Oh, _great,"_ Angie hissed, massaging her ankle while she had the chance.

"Oh, and how do you know the other one didn't have a dead end just like this one?" Isaac challenged.

Tasha stepped forward and ran her hands over the wall, backing away with a smile on her face, "This was the right way."

"How can you tell?" asked Sarah. The older woman pressed her hand up against that brick. In her mind, Sarah drew the shape she was tracing: a circle with a line through it, like a cat's eye. The same one they'd found on the boulder outside the temple. "So what now?"

"Look for the secret door." Isaac stated.

"Yeah, 'cause that worked _so_ well before," Angie said, annoyed.

Tasha ignored them both and turned her attention back to the symbol. Sarah heard an uncomfortable sliding noise and knew the Russian was searching the wall for cracks with her nails. She soon found them, because a click could be heard, and then a grunt as the woman turned something to unlock a passage and push the doorway open. The group stepped through after her, sweaty and relieved, then stilled at the sight before them.

"Oh, _shit."_

Three monster guards turned towards them.

[-M-]

Isaac was the first to act, emptying his entire H&K USP .45 Compact into the nearest creature to bring it down, then frantically digging in his pack for another round, keeping his eyes on the advancing two. Tasha kept still, not actually looking at the creatures, but at a space above them, it looked like, while Angie was fishing under her skirt for the knife she kept there.

Sarah's mind was racing. There was a grenade in her pack, she knew, but the temple was old and she had no desire to bring it down around them. And she was a really, really bad throw. She could probably erect a shield around the three of them, but she needed more space to do that, and more time that they definitely didn't have.

Getting an idea, she gathered magic into her muscles and upped her speed, running forward until she was toe-to-toe with tall, dark and ugly, jumped up to bring her arm back and punched forward as hard as she could, working her magic around her hand to keep it from breaking on the creature's exoskeleton. Interestingly, the combination of rock-hard hand and magic-steroids equaled a punch hard and fast enough to go _through _both armor and brain. Her arm came free with a sickening squelch.

Sarah looked back to see Tasha coming up behind her quickly, a small notebook already out to decipher the runes that Sarah saw were covering the far wall. Angie and Isaac were keeping the last guard occupied.

"Cover Tasha!" Isaac yelled at her, then ducked in time to avoid the punch sent his way, but not in time to dodge a crushing kick, which sent him sailing into the bricks on one side. He crumpled up near the wall and lay still.

Angie handled the limbs like a pro acrobat, flipping and jumping over the swift and deadly strikes. She was not graceful, and not fast enough for her knife to do anything but nick the surface of the black armor once in a while, but she kept the beast's attention from their archeologist, which was what they needed.

Sarah turned to survey the redhead's progress, eyes widening when she saw her just _sitting_ there, gazing at Isaac's prone form. Recognizing the disbelief on Sarah's face, the older woman quickly got to work, jotting a loose translation down as she went. When she was finished, the woman stepped back, eyes flitting back and forth from two groups of symbols on the wall near the floor.

Finally deciding, she pointed at the one on the right, "It's that one. Punch through and grab the bracelet. I'm going to get Isaac."

The woman turned and ran to her lover, leaving Sarah to again pump magic to her arm and encase it in a protective shield. She pulled back and hit the group of symbols with everything she had, then searching through the rubble to find what she was looking for. Her hand touched a small clay box and she pulled it free, opening it in a hurry to check whether it was the bracelet or not.

A delicate metal circlet blinked at her in the torchlight, small red stone, smooth and round like a marble, glinting seductively.

Sarah's hand tightened around it with every intention of running over to her teammates and activating the crystal that was supposed to get them the hell away from here –

And then she stopped, turning to look at the jewelry in her hand.

The stone glowed, small black accent in the center widening like a pupil. It wasn't in her hand any more, it was around her wrist. And everything she could see was _red._

[-M-]

_Sarah stood tall, overlooking a field bigger than anything she'd seen. To her right, her liege sat upon a horse speckled with white and gray. He looked at her sternly, worried, brown eyes stern beneath a helm that had been made just yesterday, and not nearly so strong as the armor of the enemy. He would die today. As would the rest of their small army._

"_You will lead us to victory." _

_It was not a question, but it was uncertain. She frowned, but nodded. She wondered if he knew he would die. Probably. It was probably why he'd left his son with his wife. She'd gotten pregnant again, and Sarah hoped it was another boy. There was no chance of the Witchblade attaching itself to her, even if it was a girl – she would not be a Fey, and her parents wouldn't let her touch the armor with a stick – but those things could be changed, outmaneuvered. The only deciding factor was gender at this point._

"_Still," he said, looking over the field as their opponents made showed, small specs lining the entirety of the horizon, "You are not the sort that inspires confidence."_

_Sarah said nothing, only fisted her right hand and brought it near her, allowing the transformation to take hold. The wicked armor wrapped itself around her, destroying her gown – and it was a real shame; it had been a gift from the prince, whose pretty hands had so delicately touched the fabric that Sarah felt she was being too rough with it even just standing – and giving her extra height in the form of shoes with knives coming out of the heel._

_She tensed, waiting for the king's signal. She'd been working hard to gain this much control over herself. Usually, the bloodlust made even standing still impossible, but she had been practicing hard. If she hadn't, she would not be allowed to charge for her services; she would have killed her employer as well._

_There were no more words between her and the king. There did not need to be. He raised two fingers in the direction of the enemy._

_Working to keep in mind that the king was off-limits, she let the red bleed into her vision._

[-M-]

_The beast flew to Sarah, roaring it's fury. Didn't it know that it couldn't fight her? What could it do against her armor?_

_She held up a fist, pointing it at the dragon and letting the bracelet grow and twine around her forearm. The stone, now larger, glowed a bright, dangerous red. She felt the power gather hot in the center of her palm. She opened her hand and fired. A stream of pink light shot at the creature hitting its stomach and showering the rocks and sparse shrubbery with acidic blood. For a moment, the armor covered her entirely, even her eyes, and then it melted away, growing back across her body until it only covered her left arm, her wrist and hand, then just the space the 'delicate' bracelet occupied._

_She ran a hand through her hair. Nary a tangle. That was good. She didn't want to look mad when she went shopping. And she _needed_ food. It had been a week since she'd last eaten. She didn't have anything on her to sell or trade now, which was why she'd gone after the dragon._

_She stumbled down the mountainside, looking for the hole the worm had slithered out of. There! She climbed into the hole, stomach rumbling in anticipation when her hands brushed over the beginnings of an enormous find. Coins of every color were clinking against each other as the scooped them up and tucked them into her shirt. After she was sure she had enough, she turned and ran out the entrance, leaping off the cliff to get the bracelet to activate and enhance her vision. Just as the ground rushed up to meet her, her legs became armored and she was able to jump up to a small ledge and onwards, to the nearest village._

[-M-]

_Sarah stood silently, eyes critical as she watched the men move several pieces forward on the map._

"_Our forces will attack from here. We will engage the Assylians and await reinforcements," Here, the man turned to look at the room, "We'll need about half of the lot of you to advance."_

_The group shifted uncomfortably. Seeing this, Sarah stepped forward. "I can be a substitute for their forces," she gestured to the men, "I've been able to hold in the bloodlust for nearly a month. I can even carry soldiers back to medics."_

_The man gave her a serious look, and the atmosphere turned a lot more personal. "Lilly…I don't doubt your control over the Blade, but the environments you've been working in aren't like a battlefield. You weren't able to control the impulses the last time we fought against an army…" He trailed off, and everyone's, including Sarah's, attention was fixed on the long, white scar that stretched across his jugular._

_Sarah felt her face turn hot and she stuttered out, "How am I supposed to be of use to anyone if the situations I deal with are off the field?" She jutted her chin out and pursed her lips, daring the man to defy her._

_He slowly nodded and gave stern glares to any who looked uncertain._

_Excitement fluttered in Sarah's belly. She'd finally be able to fight for real!_

[-M-]

Sarah struggled to lift her head off Angie's lap. The teenager helped her up, keeping a concerned hand on her arm, her mouth twisting with worry.

The brunette twisted her arms, feeling incredibly drained. "What happened?"

"The Witchblade reacted to you," Isaac stated, leaning on Tasha for support and holding a compress against his temple, "We didn't know you were a Fae."

Sarah stared at the small piece of jewelry which had attached itself to her arm, "Neither did I. Well…I knew it while I was dreaming, but it was just a dream. I think." She frowned, "I could still use the magic I learned when I woke up, but since I looked the same, I didn't think it was real. I thought I just picked up a few tricks."

"Sarah," Tasha said gently, "Humans can't just look at people's dreams like you did today. That's a skill only Fae have, and they have to study to learn it, too. What was your dream?"

"I was in the Labyrinth," Sarah said, eyes still focused on the Blade, "And I'd taken up my role as the Lady of the Labyrinth. I was a guide to people who learned its lessons. When I wasn't doing my job, tutors would teach me history, philosophy, theory and things, and the Goblin King would teach me magic. I was turning into one of the Fae there, but when I woke up, I was still me."

Angie rummaged through her bag and fished out her compact, opening it and holding it up for Sarah to look at, "And now?" she asked with a bit of sarcasm lacing her tone.

Sarah blinked. Her eyes were once again those glowing green things she remembered from her time in the Labyrinth. Her hair, although dirty and clumpy with blood and dust, was darker and more attractive than its previous hazelnut shade. Her skin was once again smooth and pale, the freckles that had previously dotted her nose gone. "That's unexpected."

"Yeah, well, you get to explain this to Sigmund. I'm sure he'll be _thrilled_ that his precious family heirloom is now attached to the arm of the girl he owes ten mil." Isaac stood up and fished through Tasha's bag for the crystal that was supposed to send them back.

"Yeah," said Sarah glumly and put on her pack before grasping Tasha's and Angie's hands to make the jump back to Earth.

…

…

A/N: Review, please.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Everyone knew it would attach itself to Sarah. Every. Single. One.

…

…

They arrived in their living room at four in the morning and decided they were going to get a good rest before calling Terry and their families. Isaac and Tasha scavenged around the cupboards for food, discovering enough instant ramen for no-one to have to decide between shrimp-flavor and beef, and several cans of beer and Diet Coke. Everyone showered, put on their pajamas and fuzzy socks, then sat down to enjoy re-runs of popular sitcoms, high-calorie/low-nutrient junk food, and the de-stressing vibes of their living room.

They woke up around ten, dug up some cash and ordered pancakes from a place that had take-out breakfasts, and retired to different rooms of the house to converse with their respective families, though Angie was calling Terry, since she had no idea who her parents were. Unfortunately, the vacancy of the room Sarah was using was taken as a sign that Karen could be as emotional as she wanted, and the woman channeled her oh-so-endearing stern-ness into her greeting:

"Sarah Catherine Williams!"

"Here we go," Sarah muttered to herself, staring at the small compact with furrowed brows.

"We were worried sick! A _year,_ Sarah! One year! That's how long we didn't know how you were!" Karen stared at her reproachfully from Sarah's father's side with a bit of a trembling chin. Both were dutifully looking past the differences in her features. "Then _Toby_ disappears and comes back with this awful story about Lila's father and how he met you, again. If Kera – " her stepmother fumbled with the name, " – hadn't backed him up, we wouldn't have believed him."

Sarah shook her head, feeling tears begin to prick her eyes. Her father, for once not looking like all the tears made him uncomfortable, kept staring straight at her with a stern expression that went beyond the soft, push-over of a man she'd grown up with. It was a love she was more familiar with from Karen and her mother, Linda, like how he'd fight to the last against _her_ if it meant keeping her safe. "I'm sorry," she said, feeling guilty for no reason she could explain. It was her job, after all, and she'd told them the risks and where she was going to go, how she was prepared. She didn't know she'd feel this bad.

And then she noticed how her father's hair had gotten grayer, and how the crinkles in the corners of Karen's eyes were darker when she looked at Sarah from behind her mascara-ed, watery lashes, and Sarah _did_ feel bad. Because she could've had a _year_ with her family and she _missed _it. Toby had gotten taller; not by a lot, but enough that she regretted not being able to _not_ notice it, Meep had probably become a permanent fixture at the table by now, and the furniture would've been re-arranged again, in a way entirely unfamiliar to her, to make the house a little fresher.

"I'm sorry," she said again, a little sorrier now, "I'll portal over there as soon as Terry lets me."

"Why can't you come out her now?" Karen asked.

"There were some complications," Sarah said, and lifted her wrist so that it could be seen from the compact. She took a deep breath, then began to tell her part of the story.

[-M-]

As soon as she'd left the privacy of her and Angie's room, the blonde girl came towards her, a large hand-mirror gripped in her fist, and passed it to her. "Terry wants to talk to you."

"Hey," Sarah said glumly.

"Hey yourself," he answered, "You've gotten yourself into quite the situation, Rookie. How'd you miss something like _that?"_ He gestured at her face.

Sarah shrugged, "When I woke up, I didn't look like this. I thought the whole thing was a dream."

"Nothing's ever just a _dream,"_ Terry said with an eye-roll, "But you're in luck," he waved a stack of papers, "I dug out the contract between your group and Sigmund. Your assignment was to get the Witchblade out of the tomb," he grinned, "It's out, and you need not worry about your paycheck."

Sarah heaved a sigh, "Great. So, how do we get it off?"

"We kill you." Terry answered, then waved frantically upon seeing her expression, "But of course we're not going to! It's on until you die is what I meant. And judging by the Goblin King's life expectancy, it's yours for a while; assuming you're both the same kind of Fae (and it's kind of hard to mistake types; they tend to have diverse features), you'll be around at least as long as the Labyrinth is."

"Then how do we get it to Sigmund?"

"We don't. It's yours. That's what I meant with all the contract-waving: we don't have to give the Witchblade to Sigmund. He didn't – " the agent's eyes twinkled, " – 'say the right words.'"

Sarah frowned, "So he's paying us forty million dollars and getting nothing."

"Yep." Terry's expression grew more serious, "Sarah, have you looked up the Witchblade's history at all?"

She searched through the small flashes of memory she'd seen while wearing the Blade, "It's armor. Really…strong armor."

"It also makes the wearer lust for battle while wearing it and is impossible to remove. Like a parasite. Sigmund was putting up a 'it's been in my family for generations' front, but in actuality, he was going to try and discover the secret behind its indestructibility, then destroy it. If he wasn't, we wouldn't have agreed to work for him. Too destructive." Terry's frown grew darker, "Because no-one in the business world is a nice person, he's going to want to use it, still. In tests. With you wearing it. _Not _humane."

"Good thing she's not human," Angie muttered off to the side, blinking when both Sarah and Terry stared at her. "What? It was a joke!"

"On top of that," Terry said, turning back to Sarah after giving Angie a disapproving look, "You're going to have a lot of people after you now. What with a Witchbladed woman being the equivalent of an army. Lot's of people have uses for armies."

Sarah groaned, "Well, that's just _peachy."_

"However," Terry continued, smiling in an effort to cheer her up, "From what I hear, you're no longer a free woman."

"Because of the Labyrinth?"

"Because of the Labyrinth. The Lady of the Labyrinth is a subject of the Goblin King when push comes to shove, and he's not about to let _his _'army' go off gallivanting on another realm. Thus, Sarah," Terry pulled a remorseful expression, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to let you go."

Sarah grinned, "Fine! I _quit!_ I don't need this stupid job! _I_ work for the _Goblin King!"_ She snickered at his quirked eyebrow, "Not bratty enough?"

"No, no. Quite bratty. One can't help but see the fifteen-year-old shining through."

Sarah gaped. "I can't believe you just said that."

"Can't believe I said it or can't believe His Highness _told_ me?"

"Both." She puffed out her cheeks, "So what now?"

"Now? Now we look for a lawyer. Chances are Sigmund will be attempting to sue us soon, for refusing to give him what we agreed on."

"Great. Well, I'll let _you_ take care of _that_ and in the meantime will use up ingredients I can't afford to portal over to my parent's place," Sarah said with a syrupy smile.

The dark-haired man frowned, "One day, Williams, I will wish you away."

She stuck her tongue out, "Enjoy getting through the Labyrinth without _my_ help then, Runner!"

[-M-]

"Can't…breathe…" Sarah choked out comically, flapping her arms to add effect to her struggles against the bone-crushing hug Karen was giving her.

"You've gone all thin again!" the woman said, despondent, "There's chicken and rice in the fridge, come on," she tugged Sarah to the kitchen, ignoring Sarah's insisting that she'd eaten half a pizza before portal-ing over. Sarah managed to swallow a few forkfuls of rice miserably, heaving in relief when Karen pulled the plate away from her with a look that said that if she caught Sarah deliberately not eating when she was hungry, there'd be hell to pay.

Sarah had been right, and the house had changed since she was gone. The chandelier in the entrance hall had been replaced, probably because of Meep, somehow, and a small, glowing aquarium decorated a shelf, guppies swimming back and forth and picking up flakes of food as they went. A white vase with bright, plastic flowers that Meep whispered to her not to eat because they weren't _real_ flowers decorated the dining table. There was a new rug by the door to the garage.

She'd be staying with them while Terry and the others sorted themselves out. Being gone for that long without any correspondence had pretty much knocked them completely off the list of the better humans-for-hire, and while Terry was attempting to make sure they kept their forty million, Tasha and Isaac were awkwardly morphing into a married couple and talking about fake memories, planning to make some of their own, soon. Angie, on the other hand, was searching for an apartment. She found something promising over an unassuming tea shop, and though she complained about the neighbor's Chihuahua, she was probably going to live there soon, anyway. Being stuck in Isaac and Tasha's apartment while they were figuring out a marriage wasn't something anyone would have wanted.

And Sarah was spending a cozy spring with her family, showing Karen how to spell the flowers into blooming more quickly, showing her dad how to make things float out of the way, and helping Toby with math homework, because, for whatever reason, he didn't take to magic.

Over time, she gained back the weight she'd lost over the four weeks on Harena. Thankfully, this time, the weight stopped at 'healthy', not adding to her thighs or stomach, much to her pleasure, probably due to her new inhuman status. Another thing that boosted Sarah's confidence incredibly was the amount of heads she turned when in public. Though she knew it was because she was Fae, and the large amount of skin the rising heat was allowing her to show was probably not helping, catcalls were catcalls. She stopped keeping score in her diary when Toby caught her at it.

It was on a picnic that Sigmund's efforts caught up to her.

The Williamses had decided to use the lovely weather to their advantage, packed sandwiches and fried chicken, piled into the car, and drove to a nearby lake. It was nice and breezy, cool enough that lying in the sunshine wasn't a stuffy affair, which had the adverse effect of making the lake water cold enough that only Toby and Meep were insane enough to jump in. Meanwhile, Karen and her father pulled out badminton rackets and began launching birdies back and forth.

Sarah leaned back against a conveniently close tree and pulled out a romance novel from the collection of books that Kera had left with them; she and Lila were currently in Boston, sorting through documents that Mr. Riordan had left behind. If they managed to find anything that lead them anywhere, they'd be off at a moment's notice, so they'd handed over their house key to Karen and asked them to use up the food in the pantry and unplug the toaster. Sarah turned the page, giggling a bit at the endless, overdone metaphors _– 'her tears were large, glittering crystals, trailing down the silk-smooth plane of her cheek' _– not at all prepared for the sensation of fingers running through her hair.

She turned towards Jareth, embarrassed at being caught with chick lit, and smiled, "Hey,"

He smiled back fondly, "Hello. You've certainly gotten yourself into a tight spot."

She moved over on the blanket, and he joined her, his arm moving behind her back seamlessly to prevent the awkwardness of shoulders bumping together. She put her book down at her side and lifted her right hand, "It's odd; I usually forget I have it."

"It more than makes up for its imperceptibility when active," he said, turning her wrist over to frown at the small, red stone. Sarah thought she saw the cat's eye accent widen a bit, but closed her eyes and forced herself to pretend she didn't. That was _way_ too creepy to think about. "Have you had any trouble with it?"

"No," Sarah answered, "But I've only activated it once – that one time I was on Harena." They spent a few moments just gazing at their surroundings. Neither her father nor her stepmother noticed the addition to their family picnic, and Meep and Toby were out of the range of vision, anyway. She guessed he'd made it so that they were unable to see him. She turned to look at him, "Why are you here?"

He exhaled slowly, "Sigmund has called for a formal accusation of you. You really should be safe, but he wants the Witchblade and either you or Terry have to be guilty for him to have it. The group's cut off all legal ties with you now, Terry's made sure the others are safe, and you _should_ have been fine, but Sigmund's changed tactics now."

"So what now?" she looked at him.

He shrugged, "Court proceedings. Bribery. He'll have difficulty going up against a king, of course, but there are hundreds of us, and the goblins are easy to banish if you know what you're doing."

"What am I being accused of? Maybe we can prove it wrong," Sarah began, and Jareth smirked.

"We can try; you're being accused of intentionally stealing the Witchblade. Magic can't be used to gather evidence, it's too easy to tamper with, but from the testimonies of my citizens, he knows you spent your 'dream' in the Labyrinth and turned into a Fae there. Looking at your appearance now, it's going to be hard to convince them you looked like a human in-between waking up and touching the Blade."

"But my team – "

" – Were your friends for five years before that assignment."

"Four," corrected Sarah quietly, lowering her eyes to Jareth's ruffled shirt and considering the evidence against her.

"Sarah," His voice brought her back to reality. "Rest assured, I will do everything in my power to - !"

She'd kissed him. _Sarah Catherine Williams_ had put her mouth on _Jareth, the Goblin King._ This _so_ violated all those boss-employee rules she'd heard about.

He'd frozen for a moment, probably just staring at her, but then his hand was in her hair again, tugging on it gently to bring her back to a position that was more comfortable and less putting-all-her-weight-on-one-hand-to-keep-herself-from-falling-on-top-of-him. She broke the kiss and began to apologize, then _mm_-ed in delight when he began another one, leaning back against the trunk of the tree and letting him straddle her to get better balance. She took all of her knowledge gathered from romance novel-reading and brought her hands up to his neck and under his shirt, putting pressure on the muscles there in what was probably a mediocre massage.

He pulled back and planted another kiss on her wrist, his face breaking into a full-on grin upon making eye contact with her.

"You'll be safe. I promise." he said, and disappeared, leaving a fine dusting of glitter all over her. Despite the mess, she felt a great deal of appreciation for the nonexistence of the general awkwardness that came with waiting for the other person to climb off when the lip-locking was done with.

She leaned back, settling herself against the thick trunk of the tree and gazing dreamily up at the passing clouds. She wondered if that could count as a catcall.

…

…

A/N: Something that I'm sure everyone noticed is the time inconsistencies; this is taking place in the nineties, so I'm unsure if iPods even existed, and I know a lot of the language is ahead of its time. That, and other things like how I might accidentally call Angie 'Amy' (because that was the big competitor name when I was coming up with her) or the big mistake with Sarah's mirror lesson (has anyone caught it? Dear God, I hope not) will be edited out at the _very_ end of the story, once I've got the plot down and the idea behind the epilogue/sequel brewing.

And I just doomed myself with the metaphors jab, didn't I? _Ooh…_


	12. Chapter 12

The breeze blew back her hair nicely, playing with it and making what she was sure was an intimidating image look even more surreal. Sarah grinned down at the runner from her place at the top of the outer gates, crossing her legs as she did so, her skirt swaying and settling prettily against her figure. "So you're the runner? As if you could even find your way inside!" She was definitely being a hypocrite and karma was _so_ going to pay her back for that.

"I can see your panties." Yep.

"Oh, shut up," she said, and jumped down from the wall, using magic to ensure she didn't need to crouch for the landing – and so that the teenager didn't get another panty-shot. "It's _hard_ to cut an intimidating figure, okay? And you know what? I _deserve_ to be a little spooky-elegant; I dealt with this stuff before you were _born."_ Well, not really. But she could always say the kid looked like he was ten.

"Whatever," the boy responded, putting hands on his hips in an oh-so-dramatic manner and scowling at her, "Are you gonna show me where the door is, or what?"

"Um, no. Aren't you gonna ask who I am, explain what you're doing here…?"

"Should I?"

She huffed, "If you want to be _polite,_ then yes."

He shrugged, "I'm Derrick. I need to get to the Castle. Who are you?" Oh, _ew,_ he was staring at her chest. "You have a hickey right here," He pointed to his collarbone.

_Damn_ Jareth. "You know what? Shut up," she covered it with her hand, "I'm Sarah, Lady of the Labyrinth. For all intents and purposes, I'm your guide. However, I can't actually show you the way."

He raised an eyebrow, "So…what's your point?"

"There are a couple rules to this place. You'll figure them out as you go along. I'm here to help with the teaching," she smiled as best as she could at the boy, who she was beginning to like less and less, and leaned against the Labyrinth's outer wall, against a space which was conveniently curved so that her back wouldn't be uncomfortable against it.

"Okay." He said, and began moving down the wall, staring at it for any sign of a door or hole to crawl through. Silly boy. Still, she got up off her place at the wall and moved to follow him. And she was just going to end up back where they started! Urgh!

"I'm guessing you're here because you wished someone away?" she ventured, trying to begin the teaching process.

"Yeah," he said, "My older brother. He's an ass."

"An ass that, apparently, is worth saving," she added, searching for the affection that was usually down there, somewhere.

He scoffed, "As if. But my parents would miss him. He's going off to college soon."

"Wouldn't they miss him anyway, then?" Sarah asked, smiling to herself a bit as she saw that they were nearing the same pool that she'd witnessed Hoggle…contributing to on her first journey here.

"Yeah, but at least they'd be phoning him and not bugging me," the teen replied, then hissed with frustration when he saw the familiar pond. "What the hell? We were just here!"

"Things aren't always what they seem around here. You can't take anything for granted," Sarah recited, and eyed the boy with a bit of a smile, "Like the love of a sibling."

The teen glared at her, "Whatever. Do you know how to get in?"

"Of course." She smiled again, waiting.

"So? Where's the entrance?"

"What entrance?"

His face quickly turned stormy, "To the Labyrinth?"

"I don't recall ever saying there was an entrance," she said evasively, putting her hands behind her back in the picture of innocence.

"Don't play dumb, okay? I really don't need that right now," he scowled, "There are probably some magic words, right? There always are," He took a breath and stroked his chin in thought, then turned to her, "You'd know them, wouldn't you? What are the words?"

"What words?"

He seemed to want to get snippy again, but restrained himself, "What are the words to get into the Labyrinth?"

Sarah let a mysterious grin roll onto her face, "Say them, Derrick. You're almost there," she coaxed.

His eyes closed and he seemed to be experiencing a moment of insight. "How do I get into the Labyrinth? Please."

Stones clinked as the enormous double-doors opened a little to the left of Derrick. Sarah whistled, "Very nice. Even a 'please'. I might forgive you for seeing my panties for that."

He looked at her, walking into the Labyrinth as he did so, "Why did they have to be that specific?"

"It's a lesson. It always will be. People don't ever know what you want, even if you've lived with them for, oh, seventeen years," she smiled at his glower, "You can't expect anyone to know what you mean; it ruins relationships. Things aren't always obvious to you, yourself, either. You assume you were being clear with your wants, but I definitely didn't understand what it was you wanted."

Derrick scowled, "So I'm walking through here and learning all about the facts of life. Is that right?"

"Pretty much," Sarah said with a shrug. "If you don't, then even if you get to the center, you'll never get out." She gestured to the high rock walls, then stiffened when she felt her connection to the runner almost vanish. She turned to him.

"Screw this!" the boy shouted, throwing up his arms and sitting down against the wall. "Everyone keeps effing trying to _teach_ me things! No! I'm staying _right. Here."_

"I'm sorry you feel that way. If that's that, then I don't have a job to do," she said somewhat sadly, and used her magic to effectively vanish, leaving behind only her shadow, which she doubted he noticed. Taking his dumbfound expression as a sign she'd done it right, she moved away from him a few feet, to an opening disguised as a patch of rough brick, and walked through.

The Labyrinth was feeling especially sympathetic to her today, so she almost immediately found herself in the library of the castle, this time a mockery of a forest,with a huge tree in the center, and enormous 'roots' serving as steps to get the shelves which resided up in the branches, almost at the room's ceiling. Everything was green and misty, humid without being oppressively hot. She smiled at the Labyrinth's correct guess that that was where she'd like to be the most right now, but continued on her way out of the room, nonetheless.

The trip to the throne room was short; it always was, now. The Goblin King lounged, bored, in his chair while an angst-ing eighteen-year-old ranted to the audience of goblins about how he'd always been a good sibling and that his little _snot_ of a brother didn't have any right to wish him away. Didn't he know that forcing people against their will was illegal? As she entered the room, the goblins – true to their short attention spans – turned to look at her, prompting the gaze of the angry teenager as well.

"Hi," he said, flushing under the collar, "I'm Eric."

She shot him an awkward smile, relieved when Jareth stepped down off his throne and came over to her to initiate conversation. King or not, if he wanted to be getting any tonight, he'd better not act like she was beneath him. "Derrick gave up," she said with an unapologetic shrug, "I left him down the hall from the blue worm."

"_What_ a shame," Jareth drawled, giving the once-again ranting teen a contemptuous look, "Seems like your humanity isn't going to stay for long."

Sarah rolled her eyes, "Don't be so melodramatic. At worst, he'll become a dwarf. That's still plenty human." It was true; most goblins were children or particularly vile Pomeranians, not teenagers. Regardless, Jareth sneered at the boy and put a hand on her waist. (She was _so_ offended. It, like, totally insulted her femininity. She didn't like the possessiveness one bit. Not one bit. Honestly.) Having used up her one allowed eyeroll, she settled for an annoyed purse of her lips, and tried to pretend she wasn't fingering the waist of his pants.

Deciding they'd both said their bit – and not really willing to start challenging the creepy, glittery Goblin King – the teenager turned back to the twittering goblins and tried to recapture his audience. They were totally unwilling and instead scampered off to the chickens who'd been enjoying relative peace in various corners of the room, the smallest ones taking second and third attempts at a favorite game in the Underground: reigning and riding poultry. Now completely bored, Eric stuffed his hands into his pockets and glared at the ground, a pout forming, looking exactly like his brother. Sarah sighed.

"Come on, then," she said, stopping her idle fiddling with Jareth's clothing and walking over to the teen to take his hand. "I think you've managed to annoy my king, and that's no mean feat. Not when you spend your immortality ruling goblins." Eric, for his part, looked completely stunned that she'd even touched him and didn't say a word as she led him out of the room, Jareth following at a fairly menacing pace, eyes trained on her hands.

This time, the walk to the library was tremendously short, courtesy of the ruler of the Labyrinth who didn't want to see Sarah holding a pubescent boy's hand for any longer than necessary. Stepping into the room, Sarah waved an arm to gesture at the mythical appearance of the collection, and smiled at the kid's shocked expression. "Try those out," she nodded towards the books containing the basics of magic, "They might prove useful, eventually." The boy took off, looking eager to entertain himself, even if it was just books, and left Sarah alone with her liege.

She smiled at him wrapping both arms around his slim waist and reaching up to plant a kiss on his chin. "How's it going?" The mist thickened conveniently, hiding the eighteen-year-old – and them – from view.

"Particularly well, now that I don't have to listen to him. Or," he added with an annoyed look at her, "Watch him grab you."

She scoffed, _"I_ took _his_ hand, and it was for about half a minute while we travelled over here. And, anyway, I have a bone to pick with you," she tapped a finger onto the mark on her collar, "You know his brother saw this? That was _so_ embarrassing. Do you have to leave evidence of our make-out sessions every time?"

"Terribly sorry," he said with a wolfish grin, "I'm afraid, however, that there's not much I can do about making that less noticeable. The only solution I can think of would be to give the rest of your neck the same treatment." He leaned down to ghost over her ear with kisses, making goosebumps rise. "Any objections?"

"Very few," she admitted, fingers weaving through his hair blissfully, "One being that we're still in your library and that it's open to the public."

Two moments passed, and they were in her room. Sarah fell back onto her blanket, pulling Jareth down with her. Their mouths came together easily, with the feel of two weeks of doing very little besides practicing tongue wrestling. She giggled when his fingers found a sensitive patch of skin on her thigh, retaliating with a blown raspberry on the side of his neck. He pulled back with a dazzling grin, lifting her legs off the floor and onto the bed, then climbing on himself to rest on top of her. They kissed again, him nibbling on her lower lip with what was probably enough force to swell it, and slowly travelling down her jaw line to plant kisses in her hair.

The moment was wonderful. Of _course_ it had to be ruined by work.

Sarah stiffened as the weight of the need to return to the runner coursed through her; Jareth stilled against her as well, realizing her predicament. "Damn it," she said, rising off the bed and straightening her hair again.

He sighed, conjuring a crystal and checking the boy's location. "The two doorknockers are currently being harassed."

She huffed, "Maybe we should have a rule – no more face eating while there's a runner. Too disappointing."

"Ah, but doesn't it just add to the anticipation?" Jareth teased, wrapping his arms around her and following her as she transported herself to a section of the Firey Forest and pulling her close to him behind the safety of a thick trunk.

Sarah smirked a little, turning to press herself against him and grinning even more when she felt the immediate response come from a certain part of his anatomy, "You know, you're right," she cooed, planting open-mouthed kisses along his collar and pushing her pelvis against his even more insistently, "I think the wait makes it worth it." And then, literally _feeling_ the cliché of the action, she flounced away, into the path of Derrick, snickering despite the large cloud of glitter that settled itself vengefully into her hair.

[-M-]

"So, children, what've you learned from this?" Sarah grinned ruefully. Both boys glared at her, but replied.

"Not to say what I don't mean," Derrick mumbled.

"Not to magically hold my brother upside-down over, near or within sight of the Goblin King," Eric replied, his words muffled by his shirt, the clean scent of which he was using to soothe away the memories of the Bog of Eternal Stench. Sarah had acted just in time.

"Very good. If I ever see you in my Labyrinth again," Sarah threatened, leering, "I _won't_ be so skillful with my execution of that throw." Eric just glared at her, black eye still half-closed. Smiling peacefully, as if she hadn't just executed a perfect lecherous grin in addition to her threat of stench-ification, she turned to Jareth with to affirm that she was done lecturing. Not even looking at her, he tossed a crystal into the air, triggering some sort of effect on the two boys that caused them to swiftly disappear from the room.

Not wasting any time, Jareth turned to her with a smirk. _"Your_ Labyrinth, Sarah? I believe you may be slightly ahead of yourself," he said, sauntering towards her. Sarah bit her lip, cheeks reddening and feet moving to back away from him, but a smile pulled the corners of her mouth up in anticipation. "Do you believe you have what it takes to be my queen?" he asked, gloved fingers trailing over her cheek and neck, causing goosebumps to rise and her to release a high giggle, like the action tickled.

Her affinity to the Labyrinth told her the structure of the room had changed completely in the span of a millisecond, evidenced by the feel of a cold wall against her back. Jareth sped his advance, pulling up close to her quickly and putting both hands on either side of her to block an escape. Behind him, Sarah observed the formation of a bed, vanity, several doorways into other rooms, a large, hanging tapestry and – the room's most striking feature – white marble walls. After the basics had been set up, other, small details began appearing, like an assortment of crystal balls rolling around the floor, occasional dustings of owl feathers about the room, and glitter _everywhere._ They were in Jareth's room.

Tufts of feathery blonde hair blocked her view as the Goblin King's mouth made contact with her collarbone, sucking to make more annoying, red spots bloom on her chest. She ghosted her fingers over his side, making him shudder, and bent down to blow into his ear. He stiffened and came up to meet her lips with a small noise that may have been a very petulant growl. Perhaps giggling wasn't the best way to respond, since he immediately swung her legs out from under her, magic compensating for Fae's notorious weaknesses concerning strength, and brought the both of them over to the bed, dropping her onto it unceremoniously and nearly pouncing on top of her.

Sarah clawed at his shirt, thankful the armor had melted away with the disappearance of the Runner, and ended up accidentally condemning it to oblivion with magic, though Jareth didn't seem to notice. More importantly, his now-bare fingers were under her skirt, intent causing the lacings of her dress to undo themselves with a frenzied haste. And all through it, their mouths worked furiously, coming apart to inhale quickly, the sound causing the other to focus on the small murmur he made when her fingers found his ribs, or the way her breasts felt when the act of inhaling made them rise to press against his chest.

It happened quickly – once, twice, three, four times before the frantic hair-pulling and legs wrapping around a sweaty middle turned into something softer, with more kissing, ticklish sides shaking from laughter, dreamy fingers stroking hair and, on Jareth's part, the reassurance that an unplanned pregnancy was impossible for them. Their kind of Fae could not reproduce naturally. It was a little melancholy after that, knowing that she couldn't become a mother in the traditional sense, but that hadn't stopped Karen, and it wouldn't stop her. Jareth kissing her eyelids and promising she would become a mother, somehow, helped.

They didn't move from there until Jareth's stomach, in a decidedly humanizing way, growled to demand food. Though they didn't technically have to get up, and the idea of eating without using hands was intriguing, Sarah eventually made her way out of bed without too much of a fuss – even if the bathtub was as far as she got.

…

…

A/N: PRACTICE SAFE SEX. You are not a sterile fairy. You are susceptible to disease and maybe pregnancy. And please wait to have sex until you're ready.

…So, yeah, a chapter full of make-out sessions and smut…ish. That was the plan. Lemme know if you enjoyed it. Or if I should just hurry up and get to the plot.


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